Healing
by Digitallace
Summary: D/H Slash. Dark Fic.Harry can’t live with the deaths and mistakes of his past and drives everyone who loves him away. His life has become a challenge to seek out pain. Who best to supply said pain than his arch rival Draco Malfoy? Goth/Fetish/Bondage
1. Chapter 1 Scars

Authors Note: This story was written based on a request from Winter.Poem, and long faithful fan of my other stories. She challenged me with writing a dark fic, and I think I'm enjoying this story the most so far, at some point... you might even see me in it. lol. This is story 3 of 4 new ones that I am posting today. I was going to space them out a little, but I'm selfish and want to post them all right away. lol. There is only one chapter to each so far, and they will all be longer multi chapter stories. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1 Scars

Harry could feel the thrumming music even from the street outside the club.

It was just after midnight and Harry had no idea what he was doing on this particular street corner. The club was called The Castle, but Harry had seen real castles, went to school at one, fought a war there, and helped to rebuild it. This was no castle, only a warehouse.

The small slatted windows along the top of the building were grimy, the walls a corrugated rusted out silver. Only the large wooden doors with their iron work hinges and handles made it look unlike any other building in this industrial district, that and the red neon proclaiming it 'The Castle'.

Liars.

Of course the name was false, even a muggle Brit has seen their fair share of _real_ castles, enough to know that this worn out building wouldn't count. But then everything inside would be false as well, the clothing, the hair, the pleasure and the pain.

Which brought Harry back to why he was here in the first place.

The pain.

It was his last ditch effort to make himself feel something other than the lonely heartache he had been feeling in the years since he took down Voldemort and ended the war.

From that point, his life had been a downhill spiral of trying to find a use for himself. Trying to find a reason to exist outside of his childhood mission. What does one do with oneself if your whole reason to live is _over_ at the age of seventeen?

Harry hadn't figured it out yet.

Not for lack of trying of course, but as of yet, Harry had not found a new purpose in life, and because of that his mind caught up with him. With no distractions he was being consistently reminded of the emotional pain of losing people he loved. The only thing he found that could drown it all out was _physical_ pain.

He looked down at his scarred up wrists and grimaced. The mounds of light pink flesh stood out like a beacon over his head begging for someone to release him from his metal prison. Every single time he closed his eyes he was barraged with flashing images of terror.

Snape lying on the floor of a rotted out house, his life slipping away. Fred falling backwards, the light draining from his eyes. The rows of bodies lined up in the Great Hall. All the people he couldn't save. Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Snape, Dobby, Mad Eye, Hedwig, Dumbledore, Sirius, Cedric… his parents.

The list only seemed to get longer the more he thought about it, and that only included the people he _could_ name. He didn't even have a touch on how many innocent muggles and wizards died because he wasn't smart enough, wasn't fast enough.

Harry took a deep breath and walked toward the doors to the club, the music from inside getting louder with each step he took. As he reached the entrance one of the doors swung open, seemingly of its own accord, but Harry knew better. This was a muggle club.

An ominously tall woman stood in the doorway, her silver leather platform boots helping add to her height. Her hair was blonde, but not the natural sort, and it was flowing down her back in braids. Her outfit left little to the imagination, silver hot pants and a studded bra with black fishnet under the whole ensemble.

She reached her hand out automatically and gave Harry a withering look. In only jeans and a loose fitting tee shirt he guessed that _he _was the one who looked like a freak here. Not that it was an unusual feeling for Harry to have; he was usually the freak everywhere he went.

Harry pulled out his wallet, flashing his muggle ID but she held out her palm further, indicating that he would need to take it out and hand it to her. He sighed and pushed the slim piece of plastic into her hands. She scrutinized it as if she didn't believe he was really twenty-seven, but it was true and Harry thought it could be seen plain as day on every facet of his face.

Ten years.

Ten long years he had struggled with his demons, only to have them strengthen each day, instead of fade like they did for everyone else.

The woman at the door finally handed back his ID and ushered him through with a wave. He handed some cash off to the man sitting next to her, and he stuck a fluorescent red paper bracelet around his wrist.

Behind the entrance was a thick red velvet curtain, which blocked the view of what was waiting for him inside. He walked ahead and pulled the curtain aside, stepping through into the pulsing beat of music and lights.

It sounded like several car alarms were going off at once in his head. He resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears and let the music vibrate through his skin. After a few minutes a gravely, yet melodic male voice in the song caught his attention and Harry began actually _liking_ the music. It was different than anything ever played on the wizard wireless, and more intense than any of the muggle music he usually picked out.

All around him were what looked like holding cells with curtains instead of doors. Some were open and some closed, but most seemed to be full of groups or pairings of people apparently enjoying themselves.

He walked through the dungeon-like corridor and into the area beyond, which was a wide expanse of dance floor, filled with writhing sweating bodies. The music had changed to something full of bass that made the entire floor thump beneath him.

He edged around the dance floor, keeping a safe distance. No chance was he getting roped into that nonsense. Most of the people dancing seemed to know what was expected, working their torsos and limbs in time with the rhythm of the music, kicking, spinning and reaching their arms up toward the sky. Some of them even managed to do all this with a drink in their hand.

It looked beautiful and almost choreographed, but Harry knew that with his two left feet he would manage to take down the entire crowd in seconds, a domino effect of shiny PVC clad bodies.

Along the side of the floor were red leather sofas and large wooden structures hanging against the walls. Harry's eyes drifted to the third structure, and sort of 'x' made of thick ebony beams. A fat bald man was strapped into it, almost completely nude except for a thin piece of black material covering the crack of his arse.

A small girl stood in front of him; she seemed young and petite, wearing a shiny white dress and a black corset cinching her waist. Her black hair was pulled up on top of her head a came down like a waterfall. Red mixed in with the black, as well as other things that didn't seem to belong, like lengths of black tube, making her look like a futuristic drag queen. Her make up was dramatic, and she seemed to catch Harry staring and winked.

The black leather riding crop in her hands flicked out and whipped across the skin of the pasty man tied up in front of her. His body flinched as the tip struck his flesh.

Harry grinned.

The young girl noticed his face immediately and her lips twisted into a subtle smirk. She walked over to Harry, her white buckled boots clicking against the concrete floor.

"I thought you might be lost at first, but you seem to be enjoying yourself," she said. Her voice was tiny and soft, and he could barely hear it over the music.

He nodded and leaned into her. "Yes, this seems to be _exactly_ what I'm looking for," he replied.

Her smiled widened. "Do you want up there?" she asked, eagerness sparkling in her golden eyes.

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked.

She nodded wickedly.

"Then I'm in," Harry said with a grin.

The girl marched over and removed the straps from the pasty fellow that was currently up there. She grabbed Harry's hand in her own small one, and led him over to the ominous structure. "You'll have to remove your shirt at the very least, otherwise it won't be any fun," she pouted.

Harry pulled his tee shirt off over his head, messing up his shaggy black hair and pulling off his glasses in the process. He reached for the glasses and felt a sting surge up his bare arm. He pulled his hand back with a yelp.

The girl stood there with a smug grin, having just taken her first swipe at Harry. "Leave them," she ordered and Harry nodded his assent.

She strapped him in tightly, his chest against the structure and his arms splayed wide. All he could see was the wall and he couldn't turn his head enough to see the girl behind him.

Several quick swipes fell across his skin, each of them barely grazing his back. Not painful. He scowled slightly, waiting for the pain to come, willing it to flow through him in thought crushing waves.

A few more swipes and he barely felt a twinge of discomfort. "Is that all you have girlie?" he shouted, hoping it would piss her off.

It worked. The next few hits stung, but it still fell far short of what he needed. He heard a man's voice behind him, addressing the girl as ' Mary' and asking if he could give it a try. She grumbled and Harry didn't know if she had conceited or not until the blow hit him straight across the back, making him arch up and scream.

Slowly the images of the war faded into muggle television snow and his mind was clear. It was bliss, pure and simple.

That was, until he heard the girl shouting.

"Malfoy," she exclaimed, "you got blood on my skirt!"

Malfoy laughed, and Harry went ridged. He could hear the lilt of Draco's voice that he hadn't heard before. _What the hell was that prat doing here?_

"Get me down," Harry shouted.

The blonde came into view at his side, looking smug as ever. "Well, well, if it isn't the savior of the wizarding world, the Golden Boy. This place is a little degrading for the likes of you, isn't it?" he drawled.

"Don't pretend to know anything about me, Malfoy," Harry spat.

Malfoy sneered at him and stepped back, taking another skin breaking swipe at his back. Harry gritted his teeth so as not to let Draco know how much he enjoyed the pain. He was trying to hurt the Great Harry Potter, but it would be worse if he knew how much Harry _liked_ the pain, _needed_ it.

He didn't want Malfoy to deny him this respite from the bright nightmares that flooded his mind every waking moment.

Another swipe and Harry's legs buckled from the pain, the only thing holding him in place were the straps on his wrist.

Another swipe and the edges of his vision became fuzzy and warmth spread through his body.

Another swipe and he lost consciousness, sagging completely in his bindings, only vaguely aware of the girl, Mary, screaming at Draco to stop.

"Don't stop," Harry mumbled before losing himself to a thick dreamless sleep.

--

Authors note: Review hint hint.


	2. Chapter 2 Clientele

Authors Note: Per usual I need to give first mention to my prompt and clever beta Alexandra. She's been such a help, offering to extend her beta powers to all my new fics. For any of you who haven't noticed (which are few now I think) there are 4 news stories, including this one, which I am updating regularly. This one is doing a fair job at holding my attention so far, I even wrote myself into it. lol. I quite like being a magical fiction character. lol. I hope, Winter.Poem, that you like the development so far, and I hope the rest of you enjoy it as well!

Chapter 2 Clientele

Harry winced against the sunlight flooding through the windows into his eyes. He blinked and felt disoriented. His entire back was a dull ache and he didn't know why. He looked around and realized at once he wasn't at home.

Immediately on guard, Harry peered around the room, trying not too move much. The walls were industrial exposed brick, and the floors were a lacquered red wood. He seemed to be lying on a sofa in the middle of a sitting area. To his immediate left and right were two low slung black Barcelona chairs and in front of him was a giant plasma screen television.

Muggle flat.

The events of the night before caught up with him at once. The muggle fetish club, Mary and her whip and… Draco Malfoy. He groaned to himself and tried to sit up and regretted the decision. How did he get here last night? Who took him home? Did anything else happen?

His tee shirt and glasses were on the glass and chrome end table beside him, but he could see just fine.

Odd.

He blinked to reassure himself, and yes, he could see everything, clear as day. He attempted to sit up again, and was more successful the second time. He winced as he tried to stretch, his back aching furiously. Looking over his shoulder he saw bandages. Harry sighed and stood up, waiting for someone to come in and check on him at any moment.

No one did.

In fact, the flat seemed very much empty. Harry walked into the adjacent kitchen and held his head under the tap, gulping down the water and then standing up and raking it through his hair, letting damp black tendrils fall around his face.

There was nothing in the flat so far to show who stayed there, no photos or anything. Harry padded through the loft and found a bathroom. He walked in letting the door click shut behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He winced at the amount of bandages on his back and began pulling them away.

His skin didn't look as bad as he anticipated. There were jagged lines of raised welts, but no blood, and nothing still open to bleed. Someone had healed him.

Malfoy.

But why would he do that? He had been the one to inflict the injuries in the first place. Maybe Mary made him, was she a witch? She must have been, as Draco would never be on first name basis with a muggle.

Maybe it was Mary who healed him and maybe this was her flat?

Harry opened the medicine cabinet. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it wasn't loaded up with girlie products. There was a bit of hair product, some over the counter drugs, a razor and cologne.

It was definitely a man's bathroom.

But maybe it wasn't the only one. Maybe Mary and Draco were a couple and this was their place.

Too many maybes and not enough proof. Either way he had no real wish to find out for sure. He crumbled up the bandages and threw them into the small garbage can beside the toilet.

He went back to the living room, grabbed his tee shirt and stuffed his glasses into his pocket. Inside the same pocket his wand was still there and in tact. He had been a dullard not to think of that first.

So it wasn't Malfoy who brought him here, then. He would have stolen or at least snapped Harry's wand, of that he was certain.

Another thing caught his attention in the pocket, a stiff piece of paper. He pulled it out and flipped it over and over between his fingers.

A business card.

It was plain and white with emerald green text that read simply 'Pain Therapy Intl.' in block font and then an address and a phone number. He slid the business card back into his pocket, pulled on his shirt and left the mysterious flat, apparating home.

--

Harry fell into bed the very instant he got home, but couldn't sleep even though his mind begged for it. He could have only gotten a few hours at most in the strange loft. The memories of the war were vivid in his mind and his stomach rumbled with hunger, so he got up and went to the kitchen.

He emptied the contents of his pockets onto the kitchen table and stared again at the strange business card. While preparing a quick sandwich he debated the card. Someone must have given it to him for a reason. It had probably been that girl Mary. Harry vaguely recalled her screaming at Malfoy before he lost consciousness.

After finishing his sandwich he picked up the phone from its cradle on his desk and dialed.

"Thank you for calling Pain Therapy International, how may I direct your call?" asked the small feminine voice on the other line.

Harry paused and almost hung up, but decided to see what he could find out. "I'm not sure really. I was given a card and wanted to know what it was you did there," He asked, not even sure what he should be asking for.

"What did the person who handed you the card _say_ we did?" she asked suspiciously.

"They didn't say," he huffed.

"Who gave you the card?" she asked, even more suspiciously.

"I… I don't know. I just found it in my pocket when I woke up this morning," he said honestly. Harry blinked several times wondering why he was even telling the receptionist so much information.

"Ah," she said at once, as if that explained everything, and perhaps it did. "Would you like to set up an appointment? I have an opening at three this afternoon?" she asked.

It must have been Mary, she must have warned the girl on the phone to look out for a call from him. "Um… okay. Sure."

"Excellent. I have you down for three today. See you then, Mr. Potter," she finished abruptly.

"How do you know my name?" he asked panicked, but he was only answered by dial tone.

Harry was frustrated by the cryptic turn his life had taken over the last several hours. He should have just stayed clear of that muggle club.

--

Sterile

That was the best way to describe the office in which he was standing. It actually wasn't an office, but a lobby. It looked like every receiving area for a muggle doctor's office he had ever visited—bright white walls, plush gray carpet and a few generic paintings of seashores and sailboats.

He hadn't known what to expect, but for some reason this wasn't it. He couldn't imagine Mary working in a place like this. In fact, he didn't know why he was here at all besides the fact that this mystery gave him something new to think about.

Harry was the only one in the lobby so he walked up to the empty receptionist's desk and rang the tiny silver bell.

After a moment a door on the adjacent wall opened and a petite woman walked it. She looked to be in her mid twenties. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown and cut in a short style that angled to sharp points at the end, forming a 'v' around her face and covering most of her right eye. She was pale, and her makeup was simple, only a dark shimmering shadow on her eyelids, which caused to accentuate her nude lips.

She wore a dark gray fitted blouse over a tight black pencil skirt and her black buckled wedges clicked on the tile behind her desk. He golden brown eyes narrowed as she approached Harry. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked. Her voice held a tiny hint of a British accent, which meant she was probably originally from elsewhere, but lived here long enough to adopt it.

"Yes, Harry Potter," he replied.

"Card?" she asked, looking slightly skeptical that he was in fact Harry Potter.

He rummaged in his pockets for the crisp white business card. Once he found it she was already sitting at the desk typing away. He held up the card for her to take, but she didn't notice, still typing at her computer. He tapped it against the linoleum counter and absently looked around the lobby while he waited for her to acknowledge him again.

After a moment his attention was pulled down to the cool hand holding his own still and he looked up to find the receptionist glaring at him. "Don't," she said sternly.

He looked at her incredulously. "What? Am I going to break the counter?" he asked sarcastically.

"No," she replied, going back to her computer. "It's just annoying."

Harry laughed. She was a spitfire. She must have been a muggle, because most witches, even the foreign ones knew who he was from his trademark scar and treated him with unearned admiration right off.

"So, would you like to get a drink sometime?" Harry asked her, feeling bold.

She rolled her eyes and continued to type. "I don't drink," she responded at last, after Harry refused to stop looking at her.

"Coffee then?" he tried again.

She looked up with disdain then turned back to her monitor. After he refused to look away again she calmly held up her left hand, revealing a thick tungsten ring with delicate engravings on her ring finger. "Married," she muttered.

Harry sighed. Most women her age were it seemed. "As friends then. It's not often I meet someone who doesn't know who I am."

She rolled her eyes and continued to type. "I know who you are Mr. Potter, I just don't _care_."

He gaped at her, and then promptly shut his mouth. "What are you typing?"

She continued for a moment then folded her hand delicately in front of her and looked up. "I'm making notes to your file for the doctor."

"What kind of notes?"

"Oh, just some observations that I've made since you arrived," she said, watching his face carefully.

"What?" he exclaimed. "What did you write?"

She laughed and it was slightly wicked. "Hm… lets see, so far I have that you're presumptuous, arrogant," she raked her eyes across him, "and a sloppy dresser," she replied. "I also noted that you have annoying habits that you use to distract yourself from letting your mind wander."

"What… how…" Harry didn't know how to respond. What kind of place was this?

She laughed lightly again and typed, this time saying it out loud as she did. "Inarticulate."

"When am I going to be seeing… whoever it is I'm here to see?" he huffed.

"Confused and impatient," she said while tapping at her keyboard again.

Harry was about to protest and demand she take it all back when her phone buzzed. She held the receiver to her ear nodding at once. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir," she said before hanging up.

She stood and looked directly at Harry. "If you'll please follow me, Mr. Potter," she said as she walked back through the same door she had used to come into the lobby.

--

Behind the lobby door seemed to be a completely different building. The walls were covered in metallic textured wallpaper in a dusty silver color. The floor was a highly polished concrete that reflected their own distorted images back up at them. Ahead of Harry was a long corridor with doors on both sides that appeared to lead to several offices.

A man with a white lab coat stood in front of them at a smaller desk they would have to pass to get to the offices. "Is that really Harry Potter, Lexi?" the man asked the receptionist.

She rolled her eyes. "The one and only. Impressive isn't he?" she added sarcastically.

The man only nodded, apparently not sharing Lexi's lack of enthusiasm.

Lexi turned back to Harry then with her hand out. "You'll need to surrender your wand, Mr. Potter," she said.

Harry's eyes widened. "What? No way. I don't even know who I'm meeting. I might need it."

She laughed her wicked laugh again. "Oh, you'll most certainly need it."

The man at the desk, who Harry realized must be a security officer, tried to mediate. "I'm afraid we can't endanger our employee's, sir. It will be returned to you at the end of the session. You'll either need to relinquish the wand or leave the premises."

He thought it over for several moments, the entire time Lexi was grinning at him, probably hoping he would flee so she could make another note in his file. Finally he handed his wand over to the security officer, carefully avoiding the receptionist's outstretched hand.

She pouted slightly but continued to lead him around the desk and down the long hall of offices. She stopped midway down the row and unlocked a door to her right and ushered Harry in. Once inside she promptly closed the door and locked it behind her, leaving Harry all alone.

The room was small, just a desk and chair and a smaller chair across from it. The room itself was in stark contrast to the corridor outside, all modern and metallic. This looked more like a small study, plush and comfortable, with rich woods and soft fabrics.

Harry took a seat in the smaller chair and waited… for what he still wasn't sure.

When the door finally did open, the person standing in the doorway was the last man he had expected to see. Wearing expensive black robes over a dark gray suit was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Authors Note: Instead of holding Faeries for ransom I'm holding chapters. mwuahahah. taps fingertips together and cackles wickedly


	3. Chapter 3 Pick Your Poison

Authors note: Thanks to my beta Alexandra, who is too brilliant for words. lol. I'm happy everyone is finding my stories enjoyable and I will continue to update all of them. In the meantime I am also working on a couple other story projects that I hope you will like as well. If you haven't already seen, I posted artwork for all of these stories on my website () and my livejournal (/digitallace)

Chapter 3 Pick Your Poison

"Malfoy," Harry said curtly as he got up to leave.

"Potter, sit," the Slytherin countered, pointing to his abandoned chair.

Harry rolled his eyes but obeyed nonetheless. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"I'm merely providing a much needed service. The real question is what are _you_ doing here?" Draco asked.

He opened his mouth to answer but shut it promptly. Draco took that as an excuse to continue. "I think, if you even care what I think, and by the look on your face you don't, but I'm going to tell you regardless," he sneered. "You crave pain. You need it like you need air or water or food. You need it to think and to feel anything besides the emotional anguish you experience on a daily basis."

Harry gaped at him, but quickly composed himself. "Even if all that were true… and I'm not saying it is, what do _you_ care?"

"You mistake me. It's not my ability to care that makes me so good at my job. Quite the opposite actually," he replied, smirking wickedly. "You enjoy receiving pain, and I enjoy inflicting it. It's simple really."

"So what, I pay you to torture me," Harry asked incredulously.

Draco tipped his head back and forth as if weighing the answer carefully. "It's a rather crude way of putting it, but yes, the arrangement is similar to that."

"And if I don't agree?"

"Then you walk out now, and we modify your memory so that you don't recall this visit. No harm, no foul," he answered simply.

"And if I do agree?" he asked, more curious about this answer than the last.

Draco leaned forward and raked his eyes over Harry's body. "Then we begin right away."

"What if I need time to think about it?"

Draco shook his head and leaned back in his chair again. "Time is the one thing I cannot give. You think you're the only war veteran who can't live with their past? No, sorry, Potter. It's a one-time deal. Take it or leave it."

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, Harry reflected on the previous night and the blissful blankness that filled his mind at Draco's expert touch. "I'm in."

"Excellent," Draco replied, a wicked grin forming over his features.

A pale hand snaked across Harry's vision and a stinging blow glanced against his cheek. He felt blood pool in his mouth where he bit his tongue. "Did you just slap me?" Harry asked, feeling like he was sixteen again and staring at Draco from under his cloak in the Astronomy tower.

"I told you it would begin immediately… oh and Potter?" he asked gently, whispering the next words against Harry's ear. "I'm going to do far worse than slap you."

Only a second passed and Harry found himself being gagged by Malfoy's hand and pressed against the wall. His elbow dug sharply into Harry's sternum and he kicked Harry's feet apart. The room shifted around them and metal liquid oozed from the wall creating thick chains that he bound around Harry's wrists and ankles. On what had previously been a boring wooden desk, now lay a silver tray of various instruments that Harry had never seen before. Most were gruesome looking blades and what almost looked like muggle surgery tools. Harry cringed at the sight of them.

On his opposite side another table appeared with a tray of different items. These were all sexual in nature, dildos, cock rings, whips and other various items. Harry wasn't sure which was worse.

"Pick your poison," Draco told him.

"I'm not _gay_, Malfoy," Harry spat.

Draco shrugged. "I could care less, Potter. I told you to pick. If you don't _I_ will."

Harry took another deep breath and let it out slower than before. He nodded to the left, to the tray of sexual devices.

Malfoy smirked and the other tray disappeared. With a flick of his wand he had Harry's clothing in his hand, leaving the other man naked and shuddering. He threw the offending garments in the corner and stalked up to Harry, sliding his pale fingertips across various scars on Harry's arms and chest.

He leaned in, once again pressing his face close to the other boy's ear when he spoke. "I'm really going to enjoy breaking you, Potter. I've been waiting for this opportunity for years, and here you just waltz into my office," he said with a grin, then lowered his voice a little more. "I'm going to love this so much, I might not even charge you."

He backed away and watched as Harry's body responded instantly to the closeness of Draco's, to his words, and his breath tickling his ear. "I thought you said you weren't gay?" he trilled, smiling at Harry's persistently growing erection.

Harry scowled at him. "It's only the prospect of pain that turns me on, Malfoy, not you," he growled.

Draco laughed maniacally. He took his place back in front of Harry and pressed against him, running his fingers down his naked sides, making him shiver. "I'm going to make you beg for my cock, Potter. You'll be on your knees pleading with me to fuck you before I'm through," he whispered seductively.

"Don't hold your breath," Harry replied, slightly more quivery than he would have liked.

Malfoy smiled at him and went over to his tray of toys. He let his hand travel over several, watching Harry tense or relax when his hand passed over different items. At one surprisingly large black dildo, Harry's eyes went wide. "Don't worry Potter, that will be for much later. I don't want to break you so soon, then how am I supposed to have fun?"

Harry rolled his eyes, not even blinking when Draco selected one of the whips from the tray.

The blonde laced the leather tendrils through his fingers, letting them trail and fall through, gently slapping his leg as they did. His face was a mask of indifference, except for his eyes, which were a smoldering pit of fury.

He lashed out, sticking Harry across the chest in a quick vicious movement. Harry yelped, but quickly composed himself. "That was for rejecting my hand on the first day of school," Malfoy said.

Another lash blistered across Harry's skin. "That was for making a fool out of me getting to play seeker your first year."

Three more stinging slices through his flesh and Harry was gritting his teeth against the welcome pain. "That was for challenging my father and getting him sent to Azkaban," he spat.

One last stab of pain nearly wrenching Harry from consciousness, and Draco spoke again, this time softer than the last. "That was for letting Snape and Crabbe die."

Harry's lips curved into a soft smile. "I only have one of those deaths on my conscience, Malfoy," he rasped, looking down at his chest that looked so much like ruined meat.

Draco stepped carefully up to Harry, trailing the strips of leather lightly across his exposed thighs. Harry winced as Malfoy pressed his hand against his bloody chest. He leaned in and kissed Harry deftly on the lips, forcing his tongue inside the other boy's mouth and eliciting a small moan from the back of Harry's throat.

When Malfoy stepped away again, he looked sad, resigned. Harry's eyes were half shut, the pain of the whip mixed with the pleasure of Malfoy's kiss made for a heady mixture. "What was that for?" he managed to whisper as he saw Draco replace the whip and head toward the door.

"For saving _my_ life," he replied without looking back.

--

Harry woke up in another room, having dozed off shortly after Draco left. This room was like a hospital, stark and white. He looked around and his eyes immediately trained on Lexi, who was sitting in the corner typing on a laptop.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Writing more lies about me in your notes?" he asked.

She started slightly at his voice but smiled cheekily when she looked up. "No, this is personal work… plus nothing I wrote about you in my notes were lies," she replied.

"So what are you doing now?" he asked.

She clamped the laptop shut, running her hands briefly over the gray bat graphic on its face, and shrugged. "Nothing important. Just waiting for you to wake up."

"So that you can mock me again?"

She laughed. "No, so that I can make sure you're all healed up before I let you leave."

"Where's Malfoy?"

She shrugged lightly. "With another client most likely."

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance that he couldn't logically explain. "Don't worry," Lexi added, "most clients choose the other tray."

His eyes went wide. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said at last.

Lexi's smile brightened. "Right," she said, holding out the word to last several syllables. "I'll let him know you weren't concerned."

Harry jumped at the notion. "Why did he ask?"

Laughter filled the room. "You really aren't very good at denial, Mr. Potter. I'll have to add that to my notes. Obvious. You'll remind me if I forget, won't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to remove himself from the bed. Lexi came over and helped, watching closely his movements and reactions to her touch. Harry felt fine, just a little stiff. "So you're just going to let me walk out of here?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Can you not walk? Do you need a cab?"

"No, I mean, what's stopping me from going straight to the Ministry?" he asked, not that he would.

"Oh, that. I put a spell on you while you were sleeping. You'll remember everything so long as you don't try to tell anyone about us. If you utter even one word of something that would give away our location, your mind will be blank, and you'll never be able to retrieve those memories again," she said matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded and got to his feet. He was a little wobbly at first but otherwise okay. "And when should I come back? When is my next appointment?" he asked, feeling like he might never run out of questions.

"Mr. Malfoy told me to tell you that as a celebrity client, you can return anytime you like," she replied. "He said he would make allowances for your neediness and impatience because you're so much fun," she added with a wicked grin.

"Great," Harry muttered, and left the stark white room with a smirking Lexi trailing behind him.

"Do you even know where you're going?" she asked him, thoroughly amused by his reactions.

Harry stopped short and Lexi's heels clicked to a stop just shy of slamming into his back. "That was rude," she muttered.

A small smile crept onto Harry's face. "You're sort of a brat, did you know that?"

She feigned offence for a moment then grinned. "I've been told so on more than one occasion, yes."

Harry let her lead the way from the room they had just occupied through the maze of metallic corridors until they passed the security station he recalled from earlier. "How long have I been here?" Harry asked.

"About five hours or so," she replied. "Trying to scheme an alibi for your lost time in the real world?"

With a snort of harsh laughter Harry shook his head. "No, that kind of thinking is for people who have someone on the outside that will miss them," he replied, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Lexi nudged his shoulder, a look of minor concern mingled with amusement on her pale face. "Come on, surely the savior of the wizarding world has someone to go home to."

Harry just sighed and shook his head again, leaving Lexi behind and slightly bewildered as he exited the building and apparated home.

Authors Note: If I promise to release the hostages, will you still review?


	4. Chapter 4 New Treatment

Author's note: and the plot thickens. This one is a bit longer than the others, and my brilliant Beta Alexandra informed me that I am strange. lol. I'm pretty sure she doesn't mind though since she keeps turning over my chapters same day. lol

Chapter 4 New Treatment

"Tell me about your scars, Potter," Draco demanded.

Harry didn't like being demanded to do anything, yet there he was, sitting in a chair across from Draco Malfoy and being told to share his feelings. He wasn't the type to get all gooey and emotional, especially not in front of his most hated nemesis.

"There's nothing to tell, Malfoy," he answered.

"It looks like you tried to kill yourself," Draco mused, an inappropriate twinge of concern in his eyes. Harry hated when he saw that in the other man's eyes. He wasn't there to be pitied. He was there to clear his head.

"I didn't, so you don't have to worry about your precious savior," Harry replied, using the same name Draco insisted on applying to him whenever he could.

"I wasn't worried," he said, quickly banishing the look from his eyes. Harry almost nodded in triumph. "It's just that if you weren't trying to do yourself in, then the cuts would be going horizontal, not vertical," he added, gesturing to the long thin slicing running up and down Harry's forearm.

"Look Malfoy, I'm not here to be psychoanalyzed, so can we just get on with it already? I know you must be anxious to start hurting me."

Draco yawned. "It's really not as much fun as I had hoped. You black out after just a few nasty whip cracks. I thought the savior would be able to handle more pain. Here I thought the rumors of Voldemort hitting you with cruciatus were true. Must have been just rumors after all," he mused, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk, making it obvious that they were going nowhere fast.

Harry jumped to his feet. "You should know for sure, Malfoy. Your father was there the night he cast it on me in the graveyard. Didn't he tell you all about it? How the brave Harry Potter lay broken and screaming and writhing…" his voice trailed off as Draco's concerned look resurfaced and he sat back down heavily.

Draco didn't say anything, but merely studied the look of complex agony on his client's face. Harry couldn't take the silence and interrupted it the first chance he got. "Isn't this where you ask me how that made me feel and write it down in your little notebook? Or maybe you just plan to tell Lexi later so she can add it to my file," he spat.

A slightly amused smirk curled at Draco's lips. "Lexi doesn't have a file on you, none of us do. It's not what we're about."

"What? But she said-"

"She was just fucking with you, Potter. She does that to all the clients. She has a way of reading people, of being able to tell them things that they need to hear… plus I heard you hit on her," Draco added laughing.

Harry blushed slightly and looked down.

"So tell me about your scars," Draco said again, this time his tone was low and firm.

"Let's start with this one," Harry said, pointing to a jagged pink line on his arm. "That's where Wormtail took my blood to bring Voldemort back to life." Draco was the only person Harry had met, who didn't naturally flinch at the name.

"I'm more interested in the ones that were self-inflicted," Draco corrected.

Harry sighed and nodded. "I was trying to kill myself. There is a cut here for every year that has gone by after the war. Each one symbolizes another year of anguish… of pain. I can't get the deaths out of my head. I can't close my eyes for even a second without vibrant images of people dying, like it's happening in front of me all over again." His voice was strangled and choked but Malfoy didn't mock him, he just nodded. The look on his face seemed to relay a hundred horror stories that Harry knew nothing of.

"What about your friends, surely they tried to help you?" Malfoy asked. "I can't imagine a book Granger didn't read to find a cure for your depression or a Quidditch game Weasel didn't try to take you to in order to get your mind off of it."

Harry laughed harshly. "You got it spot on. You knew us better than I thought."

"Just them," Draco amended. "I thought I knew you just as well, but…"

Harry cut him off. He didn't want to hear Draco's words. They were laced with pity and he couldn't take that, not from him, of all people. "Well, that's exactly what they did. Hermione sought out shrinks and large tomes on mental magic and Ron did everything he could think of to distract me." Harry shook his head. "They slowly gave up after a few years, until they just stopped coming to visit, then they stopped calling… I haven't seen either of them in four years."

Draco nodded curtly and stood. "Is that what you'll be forgetting today? Your former friends?"

"Among other things," Harry replied. "What about you? Any scars on that pale white body of yours?" Harry asked, not sure why he had the sudden interest.

"I only have one physical scar, the rest are internal," Draco responded easily, as if it cost him nothing to give Harry that information, and perhaps it didn't.

"Let me see," Harry asked. He didn't know why, but he wanted to see Draco expose himself, not just his bare flesh, but also his mind, his emotions.

Draco chuckled and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He laid his chest bare and looked Harry directly in the eyes.

Harry heard a loud gasp and realized that it had come from his own mouth. Draco's eyes sparkled with metallic fury and when Harry looked down at the ragged zigzag pattern of scars across Draco's chest he knew exactly what had caused them without even having to ask for the story.

He had done that brutal and lasting harm to Draco's chest. Not Voldemort or a Death Eater, not even a Slytherin. He, Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Golden Boy, had maimed and nearly killed another student.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm not interested in your apologies, Potter." He scrutinized Harry for some time before saying anything more. "Touch them," he commanded, his voice soft yet firm.

Harry didn't hesitate for even a second. He had already wanted to run his fingertips over the ruined skin and see the difference between it and the smoothness of the rest. He closed the gap between them in a couple steps and reached out a tentative hand.

The scars were raised from the rest of his chest, a bright pink against the white. He let his fingertips drift down the scar and realized it was a large, broken version of his own lightning bolt scar. He winced as he thought about how he was just as capable to take a human life as Voldemort had been.

Draco took his wince to mean something else though and swatted Harry's hand away. "If it disgusts you so much then-"

But Harry cut him off and replaced his hand on Draco's chest. "They don't," he said firmly, looking directly into Draco's fiery gray eyes. "I was just thinking that Voldemort and I were not so different."

Draco sighed. "You're a fool if you believe that."

"Look at what I did to you, your beautiful skin is forever marred by something _I_ did to you," Harry replied softly, his fingertips still trailing across Draco's skin, eliciting a shiver every so often.

He looked up and Draco's eyes were slightly widened and his eyebrow was raised in amusement. "Did you just say I have beautiful skin?"

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly. "Pfft. You _would_ pick up on that. Did you not hear anything else I said?"

"Voldemort threatened to kill my mother. He made me watch as he killed muggles and even other purebloods. He had a small boy attacked and eaten by Fenrir right in front of me just to show what he would do with _me_ if I disobeyed him. _You_ are _not_ him," Draco stated, emotionless.

Harry only nodded, not saying a word. Deep down he knew that Voldemort was worse, and that the world was a better place since Harry took him out of it, but should Harry have gone with him? That was the question that burned his mind consistently. It seemed that some mistake had happened when he came back, some balance thrown out of whack, something keeping Harry from having a real life.

"Lick them," Draco said, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

He flinched and looked up into Draco's eyes. "What?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "The scars, lick them," he repeated.

Harry blinked rapidly as if trying to process the request. He moved his hands to Draco's shoulders and leaned toward him, flicking a hesitant tongue out and grazing the rough skin of his scars. Draco didn't stop him, so he continued, soaking in the scent of him. He smelled like citrus and vanilla, and tasted like fresh nectarines.

"Lower," Draco whispered, and Harry immediately and unthinkingly obeyed.

He traced circles around the smooth firm flesh of Draco's abdomen, marveling at the muscles tensing beneath his tongue. He switched then, and began nipping and sucking lightly on the pale skin, dipping his tongue into his navel and smiling to himself when Draco groaned.

Suddenly nothing existed outside of pleasing Draco.

"Unbuckle my trousers," Draco whispered. Harry fumbled with the metal clasp for a moment, but eventually freed the belt from its place, then unbuttoned the rest, and pushed the trousers over Draco's slim hip, letting them fall to the ground around his ankles.

Harry looked up, awaiting his next order, feeling the blissful peace surround him that normally only came with physical pain. Draco only smirked at him and indicated that he should continue to undress him.

He did just that, slipping his fingers beneath the black silk fabric of his boxers, but was interrupted with a warm hand pressed against one of his own. "With your teeth," Draco said. Harry smiled to himself and gripped the waistband at his hip between his teeth and tugged at the offending garment. It took several tries, but eventually they came off and fell into a pile with Draco's trousers.

Draco stepped back, out of the leg holes and Harry was able to admire him. Draco's beauty was otherworldly, his pale skin and almost silvery hair nearly blended together, causing his full red lips, small pink nipples and swollen purple cock to stand out in stark contrast, like a beacon, summoning Harry to them.

Harry licked his lips unconsciously, causing Draco to chuckle. "I thought you said you weren't gay, Potter?"

Harry blinked, his headache returning in a sharp rush. "I'm not," he said defensively.

"You're practically salivating over the sight of my cock, Potter. I'd say that's a pretty good indication of your sexual preference," Draco chuckled.

"I…" Harry didn't have anything else to say to that. He had technically never thought of it. It seemed terribly unlikely that he was gay, he had slept with Ginny after all… though thinking back he knew even then that he didn't enjoy it, at least not the way he thought he should have.

"Do you want to taste it, Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded dumbly, the headache fading and the clearness returning.

"Go on then," he said, gesturing at his erection.

Harry dropped to his knees in front of his formal rival and flicked his tongue out, collecting the drop of semen that was already seeping out from the tiny slit in the head of Draco's prick. It was slightly bitter, but not unpleasant, and tasted similar to the rest of him, only stronger. He ran the flat side of his tongue along Draco's shaft, soaking in the sensation of it.

A rush of nervousness hit him and he panicked slightly. He had never done this before, what if he was awful at it? He looked up at Draco and the man's cold eyes were half lidded and filled with lust.

Draco blinked a few times and scowled. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to instruct you?" he said flatly. "Fine," he continued after Harry didn't answer. "Start by licking, slowly."

Harry did as he was told and swirled his tongue around Draco's cock. "Yes, that's it. Focus on the head, then let your tongue lick down the shaft," he hissed, the words choking on the pleasure in his throat.

"Now, take it into your mouth and suck lightly, just the head," he amended when Harry tried for more. "Now pull back and start again," he choked out between panting breaths.

"Press your tongue into the slit, harder," he groaned and Harry made little moaning noises around his cock. "Now grip the base of me and slide your mouth down to meet it. Good," he whispered, his head thrown back.

Harry was in heaven, the taste and feel of Draco filling his mouth drove away all the pain and the doubt and the worry. He just concentrated on Draco's words and the sensation of him in his mouth.

"Just… like… that…" he whimpered, his voice cracking. He gave no more instruction and instead grabbed hold of Harry's thick black mane and guided him up and down his shaft. He bucked against Harry's face and moaned.

Harry made muffled sounds around Draco's cock, sucking with all his might, just wanting to pour the pleasure through Draco and in return absorb back the white haze that made his mind clear and happy.

A moment later, Draco's already large cock seemed to grow even larger and harder and Harry's mouth and throat were coated with thick hot liquid.

Draco released his hold on Harry's head and pulled away from him. "Swallow," he said, his voice thick and raspy.

Harry obeyed, feeling the molten liquid drain down the back of his throat, making his entire mouth taste of Draco. He stood up on shaking legs and felt suddenly awkward. Draco looked at him appraisingly and wrapped a hand around the back of Harry's neck and pulled him close.

They were nose to nose when Draco whispered. "Did you like that?"

Harry nodded, still feeling embarrassed and odd standing fully clothed in front of his arch rival, who he had just given head.

Draco kissed him then, and drove his tongue deep into Harry's mouth, as if wanting to taste himself. Harry gave a muffled whimper when Draco pulled away.

With a flick of his wand Draco was fully clothed and heading toward the door. "Are my appointments always going to end with a kiss?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Draco turned around and leveled the full weight of his gaze onto Harry. "Would you like that?"

He swallowed thickly, realizing he would in fact like all his appointments to end that way, and nodded.

Draco merely laughed and walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

Authors Note: I will accept review in the form of written word, song, dance or food product (magical or otherwise)


	5. Chapter 5 Substitute

Authors Note:Thanks to Alexandra for beta-ing this and all my other stories.

Chapter 5 Substitute

Harry arrived at the Pain Therapy clinic around lunchtime. Lexi was sitting behind the desk and looked up at him when he walked in. "Mr. Malfoy is with another client right now," she said before Harry even asked for him.

"I'll wait," Harry replied, walking over to the row of seats in the lobby.

"It will be a long wait," she said. "It might be best if you come back tomorrow. I can set you up for a morning appointment, if you like."

"Tomorrow?" Harry looked at her incredulously. "He said I could come any time."

"Do not propose to tell me what I already know, Mr. Potter. If you'll sit for a moment I'll buzz him and see if he can fit you in sooner," she added, pointing at the chairs in the lobby.

Harry sighed and waited until she had turned away from him to call Draco, and then he slipped through the door leading to the office corridor.

The security wizard saw him at once and beamed. "Mr. Potter, I was not aware you were coming in today."

"Surprise," he said. "Do you know which room Malfoy is in?"

"Sure," he replied, looking down at his roster. "He should be in room-"

"Do not tell him a thing, Sal. He's has no authorization to be back here," Lexi spat from behind him. "Mr. Potter, I would have hoped you had more sense than that. You can't just go barging in on Mr. Malfoy's sessions."

"But-"

She held up a perfectly manicured finger to silence him. "These sessions are secure and anonymous, so unless you would like the next _Profit_ headline to be 'Harry Potter Pays for Pain', then I suggest you respect our other clients," she hissed.

Harry folded his arms across his chest and frowned. He turned and began walking back toward the lobby, listening to Lexi mumble thing like 'petulant child' and 'who does he think he is, trying to sneak past me', under her breath behind him.

"What seems to be the problem here?" came a familiar drawl from behind them. Harry whirled around to face Draco.

"Your assistant says your unavailable today," Harry said.

"Whatever Lexi says is gospel around here, Harry. Surely you realize that by now?" he replied, a slight smirk on his face.

Harry took a step closer to Draco, reaching out to grab his hand, but Draco pulled back. "What do you think this is, Potter? I'm not your possession; you can't just come in here demanding to see me. You are my client, nothing more," he spat.

Harry blanched. "So you just… do that… with all your clients?" he demanded.

A bark of laughter escaped his lips making Harry flinch. "You can't even say it out loud and suddenly you want to condemn me for being a whore? Simply because you only just yesterday discovered you were queer, doesn't mean I haven't known for ages. Regardless, what is or is not done in my other sessions is private."

Lexi glared at Draco. "We'll be having a talk about this later," she said before storming off.

"It seems you pissed off your girlfriend," Harry muttered, still reeling from the sting of Draco's words.

"She's not my girlfriend, Potter, she's my boss, and I hadn't told her about our session yesterday, so thanks for that," he spat before he too stormed off, apparently in search of Lexi.

His head was spinning as he left the building and apparated home. What had he been thinking? Somehow he managed to read more into his actions with Draco than were there. He spent the remainder of his afternoon berating himself for being such an ignorant arse.

--

Evening had Harry in higher spirits.

He reasoned that if sexual acts with Draco could relieve his retched thoughts, then it should work the same with anyone else. And if that were true he would have no further need of Malfoy. He wouldn't need his insults or his pitying looks and he certainly wouldn't need his glorious body, which he couldn't seem to banish from his mind.

On the one hand this was brilliant news. His mind was so often preoccupied with thoughts of Draco that he had barely any time to have waking nightmares. On the other hand… it was Malfoy, and Malfoy was a heartless sadistic bastard.

Why in all of wizarding London, would the one person capable of making Harry feel like a human being be Draco Fucking Malfoy?

--

The music was thumping in time with his headache, or maybe it was the other way around.

Harry was back at The Castle, having finally made it past the door guard and was casually watching the people in the cages by the entrance. One man was trying whole-heartedly to fit a woman's entire overly large breast in his mouth at once… he wasn't succeeding.

In the next cage, a woman with a full patent leather body suit was whipping a man's back as he licked her toes. Harry shuddered.

He stopped and stared at the next couple, two men around Harry's age were in the cubicle, and both had their pants around their ankles. One of the men was getting fucked up the arse, while the other was roughly jerking off the first. The scene enthralled Harry, and he watched their movements and their faces as they grunted and pounded against one another.

He hadn't realized his breath was coming in heavy pants, or that his hand and snaked down and started rubbing himself through his trousers until another hand joined him.

"Enjoying the show, Potter?"

"Malfoy," Harry gasped. He tried to pull away but Draco held him pressed against the bars and splayed his legs apart slightly.

He gripped Harry's cock through his trousers and began stroking him fervently, in time with the other men in the cage. Harry whimpered and thrust into Draco's hand, feeling the warmth of his orgasm close to spilling over.

A moment later Draco withdrew his hand and Harry whimpered and tried leaning back into him.

"You're drunk," he spat. "I can smell it on your breath."

Harry tried to protest, but the pounding headache was back and it made him want to hurl. He had been drinking… a lot actually. He didn't think he would have the nerve to pick anyone up if he didn't have liquid courage.

"What are you doing here, Potter? Are you stalking me _here_ now too?" Draco asked, his voice was slightly amused.

To this Harry had a valid protest. "No, I'm looking for someone."

"Who?" Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, but his mouth was still curved in a slight smirk.

"I don't know yet, but it's not you I assure you," Harry lied. It wasn't really a lie, Harry had just wanted to pick up any random guy and bring him home, but in truth he wanted it to be Draco.

He hadn't even realized, until he heard the volume of the music increase that he was being led over to the bar in the main room. Draco had pushed him roughly into a seat and got a bottle of water from the bartender. He shoved it in Harry's hand and narrowed his eyes. "Drink."

Harry obeyed, as seemed to be usual for his new dynamic with Draco.

"So, tell me again why you're here, and this time be honest," Malfoy said.

"I was being honest… honest," Harry said, crossing his fingertips over his heart sloppily. "I came here to pick up a guy, someone to bring home and fuck," he said, nodding confidently.

Draco laughed. "And who do you suppose would go home with your sloppy arse?"

"I would," came the answer from a guy sitting next to Harry. He was tall and had shaggy blonde hair. His clothing consisted of a Muse tee shirt and black jeans, and he looked just as ill fitting as Harry did.

"No one was talking to you," Draco spat.

Harry ignored Malfoy and focused his attention on the man next to him. "What's your name?"

"Griffin," he responded with a smile. "You really looking to bring someone home or are you just trying to make your boyfriend jealous?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Harry and Draco responded in unison.

Griffin chuckled. "Could have fooled me, I could care less either way though. You want to get out of here?" he asked Harry.

Harry nodded and followed the man from the bar and back across the dance floor, leaving Draco standing dumbfounded and looking like he might follow after them.

--

The effect was disappointing at best and utterly pointless at worst.

He had brought Griffin back to his flat, making the other man drive since Harry had just apparated to the club. The fell on each other the minute Harry closed the door. He was so excited to feel the empty blank feeling of nothingness, so eager to see only white fuzz.

They undressed in a hurry and without ceremony shuffled over to the couch. Harry was trying not to compare the man to Draco, but he found it impossible. The infuriating ferret wouldn't leave his thoughts, even when he had another man naked and bent over his sofa.

Harry really didn't know what he was doing here, but figured the mechanics couldn't be all that different from what he was used to. He angled himself at the other man's entrance and pushed slowly.

The other man hissed. Harry had forgotten his name and tried to remember so he could ask what was wrong. Before he could put his finger on it though, the other man spoke. "A little foreplay might be nice. I'm not ready just yet."

Right, of course. Harry nearly smacked himself in the forehead. What to actually do, though, eluded him, so he thought he'd just wing it.

He cupped the man's arse and slid his other hand between his legs, fondling his balls. He started squirming slightly so Harry switched and reached his hand around and stroked him, trying to mimic what he had seen at the club earlier that night.

Figuring the other man might like things the same way as he did he began working his cock the way he would his own, alternating between long firm strokes and short quick ones. He could hear the hitch in the other man's breathing and could tell he was close.

The blissful blankness he felt with Draco still wasn't there, and Harry was beginning to get impatient.

A moment later he heard a loud gasp and cursing and looked around blindly around his flat. A glimpse of red caught his eye from the entrance and Harry blanched.

"Ron… what the fuck are you doing here?"

--

Authors Note: I love cliffhangers.


	6. Chapter 6 Resolve

Authors Note: Thanks to my beta Alexandra. She's fabulous! Here we get a little peek into Draco

Chapter 6 Resolve

"Ron… What the fuck are you doing here?" Harry shouted.

"I think I could ask you the same thing." Ron spat. He had turned around to face the wall while the man Harry had brought home scrambled to find his clothing.

"What I do in my own flat is my own business, Ron," Harry hissed. The man was mostly clothed and walking past Ron out the door.

"Apparently it shouldn't be if you are going to keep up with these massive downward spirals. Are you really so desperate for attention that you would degrade yourself this way?" Ron asked, turning to face Harry.

He stopped and covered his eyes when he noticed that Harry had not attempted to dress. "Harry, for Merlin's sake, put some clothes on," Ron muttered.

"Why? Are you uncomfortable?" Harry asked mockingly.

"Yes," Ron shouted.

"Then get the hell out," Harry said and walked toward the kitchen, away from his clothes, Ron noted.

"I'm not leaving, Harry. You need help!" he shouted through the flat. He wasn't going to chase a naked Harry into the kitchen.

"I'm just fine. I don't know why you're so concerned anyway. You and Hermione made it pretty clear you were through with me years ago," Harry said. "Why are you even here?"

"Ginny's getting married," Ron said.

Harry could hear the happiness in his voice and felt a twinge of jealousy. He hadn't wanted to be with Ginny, but her impending nuptials closed a chapter of Harry's life firmly shut. The family life he had always wanted was gone.

"I'm happy for her," Harry said, not really feeling it. "It's Neville I assume?"

Neville and Ginny had become inseparable after their time at Hogwarts the year of the war. They had grown so close during that time, and Ginny had gone to him for comfort when she and Harry broke up. They had announced their dating status shortly before Harry isolated himself.

"Yeah, of course it's Neville, but you would already know that if you came to a Sunday dinner or two," Ron muttered.

Harry laughed and he sounded like a crazed man. "You and I both know that things are better for you and your family without me around."

"Just let us help you, Harry. We can all get through this together, whatever you are going through, we'll help," Ron said sincerely.

"I'm already getting help," Harry replied.

"Really?" Ron asked, both surprised and skeptical. "Because what I just saw didn't really look like it."

"I'm gay, Ron," Harry scoffed. "It's something I realized in… therapy."

Ron nearly bowled over laughing. "What kind of therapy would make you think that? What is it, Malfoy's Path to Mental Health? Chapter one, how to be a proper whore," he said between laughter.

Harry was silent and Ron blanched. "You're kidding right? It's not Malfoy. Please tell me you're not seeking help from the Ferret," Ron said, his voice laced with disgust.

"You lost the right to give me advice a long time ago, Ron. You and Hermione abandoned me. I was too difficult and I ruined your happy little lives. Draco's helping me now, so you can just go," he said spitefully.

"Oh, so it's Draco now?" Ron spat.

Harry thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

"For Merlin's sake Harry, can't you see he's fucking with you? How can you let him tell you that you're gay? After all the girls you've dated, you're Harry bloody Potter," Ron shouted.

"I know I've slept with women, but none of them have made me feel the way I do with Draco," Harry said honestly.

"What? You're sleeping with the ferret?" Ron started shaking his head in confusion and anger. "This is too much, Harry. He's using you. He's probably fucking you and going back to tell his Slytherin mates how he made the great savior beg for it," he spat.

"I don't care what Draco thinks about me," Harry lied. "The point is, he's doing for me what you and Hermione never could," he said. His voice was soft and broken. "Just… just go, Ron. Tell Gin and Neville I'm happy for them."

Harry didn't wait for Ron to argue, he just turned around and padded to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

When he heard the outside door slam shut, he knew that Ron had left and he went out to collect his clothes. He needed to vent, he needed the calming white noise to take over his mind, and he only knew of one person who could help him with that.

--

Draco was pacing the living room of his flat still dressed in the red and black leather he had been wearing at the club. He had nearly followed Potter home that night, and that was unacceptable.

He had just assured Lexi earlier that day that his relationship with Potter was purely professional. No feelings.

And it was true, mostly.

He desperately wanted Harry to get better, to feel whole and to leave the program and go on with his life. That's what Draco was there for, to facilitate the change. He always called Potter his client, but in a way, he was more like a patient. They all were. They all needed something in order to repair their broken hearts or minds and Draco found that something and provided it.

After time the patient would heal and they would no longer have a need for the company's services. Harry was on track. He would heal and he would leave and Draco would have a new patient in his stead.

Something went wrong with this one though.

Draco had helped countless clients through these same issues. Potter was no different, just a stronger case. Stronger because of who he was and what he had to do in the war. It should have been textbook, but Draco messed up.

He didn't know if it was because of his history with Harry, or because of the challenges the case posed to him, but Draco started having feelings for his formal rival.

It started simple enough. Draco felt pity for him. The man had been thrust a duty, which would most likely kill him, at the age of eleven. He lost so many people, and blamed himself for every death. That wasn't so unusual though, because most of his patients blamed themselves for the deaths of their loved ones in the war. The main difference was that Potter had a valid point. It was his war. Voldemort sought him out for whatever reason and waged a war against Harry directly.

Of course the deaths were still in no way Potter's fault. It was just a thousand times harder to convince him of it than it would be to a normal patient.

In a way Potter was right when he had accused him earlier that day. Draco had needed to establish that Harry was gay, and needed Potter to accept it. Accepting himself for who he was was the first part of healing. But Draco could have gone about it in another way. It would have taken longer surely, but Draco didn't do what he did as a short cut, he did it because he wanted to.

When he looked into Potter's eyes while he was touching his scars… he had wanted him. The want filled him and since Potter had been willing, he let the want carry him away. Draco had applied all of his self-control to stop when he did and not just take Potter over the desk.

Then that night, he had watched Potter lustfully while Potter looked on at the scene in the cage. He should have walked away the minute he saw him there, but something made him stay, and that same something made him reach out and touch Harry.

And what was that burning jealousy when Potter left with someone else?

It was against all the rules, not to mention morally and ethically wrong, as Lexi was quick to point out. She had given him the option that day of giving Potter over to one of the other healers. She said that Draco was free to date him if he wanted, but not while he was a patient of his. He had laughed and told her she was being ridiculous and that he would never nor could ever date Harry Potter.

It was the truest thing he had said to her during that conversation.

Harry was the white picket fence guy. The one who wanted the wife, the three-point-two children, the family dog and the cottage by the sea, and when none of that happened for him, he crumbled.

That was his biggest problem. Harry wanted a normal life, but he wasn't normal, at least not that kind of normal. As soon as he realized this, then the healing process could begin and Harry could move on.

He would find a nice loyal boyfriend and settle down and maybe even get the dog and the cottage.

Draco couldn't offer him any of that, so it would be unfair for him to act out his feelings any further.

He had just calmed himself down and steeled his resolve when the metallic knock sounded through his flat.

Authors Note: As always I love to hear what you think! Please review


	7. Chapter 7 Eyes

Authors Note: As you may have already seen (If you read any of my other stories), I'll be on vacation for a few days later this week extending into early next week, so I won't be able to update on those days. But don't pout just yet. Because of that, I'll be posting an extra chapter of each story before Thursday so that none of the stories get behind while I'm away. I'll have all the stories caught up to chapter 8 before I leave. yay! Thanks to my beta Alexandra as who is lovely as always.

Chapter 7 Eyes

"Potter?" Draco asked through the crack in the door, though it was fairly obvious that it was indeed his Gryffindor client. The man looked disheveled and was obviously still drunk.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Now, why would I allow that?" Draco replied with his own question. "Why don't you go to Griffin's place?" Draco asked, his voice laced with a bitterness he wished he didn't feel.

"Who?" Harry asked, looking legitimately perplexed.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "The bloke you took home from the club," he stated warily, trying to keep the anger from his voice.

"Oh, right. I forgot his name," he said with a shrug. "So can I come in?"

He forgot his name? So what had happened? Had he fucked him? And further, why should Draco care? Those thoughts and many others mingled in Draco's brain as he slammed the door in Potter's face.

Hadn't he just resolved not to let his feelings get in the way of his treatment? Would letting Potter in now be a help or a hindrance to his recovery?

Resignedly, he opened the door again and peeked out. "Why did you come?" he asked Potter's retreating form.

"Because I needed to see you," he replied without turning around.

Draco sighed, unlatched the door and stepped back to let Harry pass. He turned around and smiled weakly at Draco.

"I thought this place might be yours. When I woke up here that day I wasn't sure, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to fit," Harry said.

"Yeah well, just because you're a Gryffindor doesn't mean you're completely retarded so I'm not surprised you figured it out," Draco sneered.

Harry just laughed, not even bothering to defend himself. "So you're probably wondering what I'm doing here?"

Draco nodded. Potter was obviously still drunk and Draco hated that. He wanted Harry to be sober for any of their interactions so he went and started a kettle of tea. He might even add some pepper up potion to the mix and try to clear his head.

"Ron came over," Harry began without prompting. "He caught me… in a compromising position."

Draco clenched his fists tightly and was happy that he wasn't within sight of Potter. He had a feeling the fine controls he had over his expressions had slipped at his words. "Oh?" was all he felt he could say without the anger trickling into his voice.

"Yeah. He wanted to tell me that Gin's getting married," Harry added.

That news, for some reason, had the opposite effect on Draco's mood. "Weaselette?" He asked "That's good news right?" It was to Draco. It was a key point in Harry's development. It should represent a closure of sorts, which Harry hadn't had with his old life before then.

"I'm happy for her, but it's weird, you know? I spent years thinking it would be me to marry her… but I guess it just wasn't meant to be," Harry said, his voice only tinged slightly with regret. It was a big step.

"And Ron? What happened there?" Draco asked.

Harry sighed. "Well, like I said… he caught me. I was with Griffin obviously, and he left and Ron started yelling at me. He was accusing me of degrading myself by being with a man, and told me I wasn't gay and that you were full of shit and using me…" his voice trailed off when Draco interrupted him.

"Wait, you told him about me?" he asked hurriedly. The whole center could be compromised if Ron got a hair up his arse and tried to shut it down.

"Well, he sort of guessed, actually.… Hey, am I going to lose my memory now?" Harry asked.

Draco inclined his head. "Did you just tell him about me, or did you say anything else?"

"Just you," he replied after thinking it over.

"You should be fine. We'll know for sure in the morning," he added. "Here, drink this," he said giving Harry the tea.

"So you and Griffin?" Draco asked. He kept a firm control on his face as he did. He justified that he was asking because he needed to know for Potter's case, and it might be partly true, but he was really just asking because he had to know for himself.

Harry laughed. "I… er… jerked him off and then Ron came in. He got dressed and bolted after that," Harry said. "He wasn't you, that's for sure."

Draco held the teacup to his mouth to hide his smile at Harry's words. He had never been so thankful for Weasley's inconvenient timing before. "Of course he wasn't me. No one can match my perfect grace," he said in his best haughty tone, holding his face up in the air and looking down his nose at Harry.

Harry only grinned. "No one can match your perfect arse either."

There was nothing Draco could do to hide the blush, so he made it into something else entirely. "Potter, you shouldn't say things like that. You're my client. It's not professional for you to talk to me that way."

"If I'm your client, shouldn't I get what I want? The customer is always right, you know?" Harry said with a mischievous grin.

Draco groaned, wanting to lick that grin right off his face. "I'm not sure it works that way."

Harry looked skeptical. "I'm pretty sure it does."

"And what is it the client wants?" Draco knew he was going to regret asking that, but couldn't help himself.

Harry paused. "To sleep here," he said finally. "I feel better just being near you," he added quieter.

Had he not added the last bit, Draco would have refused him, or at least that was what he told himself. But if it would help Harry, he could allow it. Right?

"Come on then," Draco said, holding out his hand to Potter.

Harry blinked rapidly. "Seriously? I thought it would be much harder to convince you."

Draco laughed. "You can sleep in my guest room."

Harry shook his head. "I want to sleep in your room."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can sleep in my room and I'll sleep in the guest room."

Harry shook his head again and Draco was growing impatient. "I want to sleep with you."

"Oh," Draco muttered. He wasn't sure about that. Something said that was crossing a line. "I can't do that, Potter. You can sleep in my bed, and I'll wake you up before I leave in the morning. That's all I can offer."

Harry sighed and pouted but Draco just shook his head. Finally Harry took his hand and Draco led him back to the master bedroom.

--

"This is your room?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with awe.

The room was beautiful, light and airy. The walls were pale blue with chocolate brown molding and the bed was a large wooden canopy with billowing cream gossamer fabric draped around it. The bedding was ice blue and very plush looking, and all of the accent pillows – and there were several – were some shade of light blue or dark brown. It was lovely and restful and not at all what Harry had expected.

Draco gave him an odd look; he had been doing that since Harry had arrived. "I would have thought you snooped around when you were here last."

Harry only shrugged. "I guess I'm not the type to skulk around stranger's flats when they're not there."

He pulled back the coverlet and Harry climbed in. "The color brings out the blue in your eyes," Harry mumbled. He was starting to look sleepy.

"I have no blue in my eyes, Potter," he scoffed, a touch of hurt in his voice.

"Yes," Harry corrected. "You do."

"My eyes are gray. One would think that someone who had spent their entire school career shooting me dirty looks would at least know the color of my eyes," he added mockingly.

"Your eyes are not gray," Harry said. "Gray is too mundane a word to describe them. They're like molten silver, liquid mercury," he added.

Draco's heart skipped for a moment. "Still, they're not blue," he said quickly, trying to mask the emotion he felt at Harry's words. Harry was just drunk and tired. He didn't even know what he was saying.

"mmm, but they are. When you get close," Harry started, and suddenly his eyes were wide and awake and boring into Draco's, "and I have been close, there are flecks of blue. Icy and cold and beautiful."

Draco turned away in order to school his face again. When he turned back, Harry's eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. Draco walked over and placed a soft kiss on his forehead and then left the room.

--

Authors Note: I hope to have lots of reviews when I get back


	8. Chapter 8 Nightmare

Authors Note: Many thanks to my lovely beta Alexandra. So I'm leaving for Philly today, and probably won't get a chance to post again until middle of next week. I hope you are all enjoying the stories and the cliffhangers wink. I hope I have lots of reviews when I get back!! I'm also working on another story (I know, I know) called Rivaling Affections, which is of course another Harry/Draco. I will most likely start posting it when I get back, so look for it mid-next week.

Chapter 8 Nightmare

Draco enjoyed his morning tea before going to wake Harry. He was so proud of himself for not sneaking into his room in the middle of the night, or letting Harry have his way the night before. He thought that he could manage it. It would take a fine balance to be Potter's healer, given the attachment he had, but he felt as though he could succeed.

He walked back to his bedroom and opened the door. Harry was sprawled across his bedspread like a dark angel and it made him momentarily shudder. He stepped further into the room and saw that Harry was caught in a dream, a decidedly nice dream at that.

Harry was writhing on the bed and moaning erotically.

Draco stood transfixed by the show. The blanket slipped from Harry's squirming form and exposed him to Draco. He stared finally able to really see the boy in all his glory. He had seen Harry naked before of course, but never like this, never so open and vulnerable, unable to make Draco stop looking, or chastise himself for staring too long.

He soaked in every detail of the boy writhing on his bed, the shape of his face, the expanse of bare muscled chest, the dip between his hips, and how the bones there jutted out like sharp wings. He memorized his firm thighs, which were paler than the rest of him, but not nearly as pale as his feet, which must never have seen the light of day.

His attention was immediately stolen toward his cock, as Harry snaked a hand down and grasped it firmly. He looked up in a moment of panic to see if he had been caught staring, but Harry seemed to be still fast asleep, locked in an erotic fantasy.

Harry's cock was already swollen and erect after only a couple strokes and Draco watched him without blinking as Harry jerked himself off… on his bed, without his permission, and not even aware of what he was doing. Draco should have been mad but he couldn't get up the energy to be upset.

He could only stare as Harry's fist pumped up and down on his own cock. He could only watch as a sheen of sweat shimmered on his chest and forehead. He could only groan at the power in those muscled arms. And he could only wish it was his mouth on him as he did it.

Draco shook his head violently to clear the thoughts away. These thoughts were not appropriate, not only for Harry's best interest, but also his own. The minute Harry got better, he would leave and if Draco got too attached he would get hurt when he did.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered.

He went rigid at the sound of his name, his eyes flickering up to make certain Harry's were still closed.

They were.

He called out his name, in the heat of orgasm, and it was obvious by the beautiful guttural noises Harry was making that he was coming; he had called out his name. He was fantasizing about him, jerking himself off to images of him, doing what only Merlin knew.

His heart raced and panic set it.

Of course he was fantasizing about him, Draco reasoned... he'd never been with another man, it was only a natural reaction.

The logical thoughts didn't stop him from wanting to earn his name being called out that way. He shook his head and fled the room; this was not going to work. He couldn't keep the balance like he thought he could.

He had to call Lexi.

--

Harry rolled over at the sound of the outside door slamming and found himself waking up in a puddle of warm sticky liquid. He groaned and cast a quick cleaning charm, hoping to Merlin Draco wouldn't notice the state of his sheets.

He pulled himself from bed and pulled on his clothes from last night. When he left the room he found the flat empty, but another cup of tea was left in the kettle, so he poured it for himself and let the warmth of it course through him.

He wondered briefly why Draco hadn't woken him, but maybe it was just his way. He had an appointment with him in an hour or so, and he could ask him then.

After apparating back home, showering and changing, he was on his way to the clinic.

--

Lexi was behind the counter as usual, but after his outburst and the new information he had about her, it seemed unusual.

"Lexi," he said in greeting.

She narrowed her eyes. "You seem awfully… chipper today, Mr. Potter," she said suspiciously.

"And you seem you're normal level of grumpy," he replied with a smile.

"I'm afraid Mr. Malfoy can't meet with you, I've arranged for Giaus to work with you instead," she said casually.

"Are you fucking with me because I'm in a good mood? I had an appointment," he stated, feeling like he was stating the obvious.

"I know, but unfortunately Mr. Malfoy has resigned from your case," she said leveling her gaze at him as if daring him to challenge her.

"He… asked to be removed from working with me?" Harry asked tentatively.

She nodded, and it looked as though she regretted to have to do so. "Yes, he did. Only just this morning."

"I see," Harry sulked.

"Would you like to meet with Giaus?" she asked and Harry nodded.

--

Giaus was a self absorbed, egotistical arsebucket and that was saying something considering he was used to dealing with Malfoy. Up until he met Giaus, Harry had assumed Draco was some sort of king amongst evil jerks, but this guy made Draco seem like some distantly related Duke in comparison.

"Do you really think you're special?" the pretentious twit asked Harry. He was leaning forward in his chair, tapping his fingers together and watching Harry intently.

"No," Harry blurted.

Giaus gave him a look that showed clearly his disbelief in Harry's answer. "Then why are you here? You are only one of the thousands of people who lost someone to the war. If you don't think you're special, then why can't you move on like the rest of us have?"

"I don't know," Harry grumbled.

"Is this some sort of attention seeking tactic?" Giaus asked. "I always read that you were a bit overdramatic and wanted to whole wizarding world to look at you."

Harry's eyes bulged out of his head. "Oh? Then how do you explain the fact that I've taken myself completely out of the wizarding world? I could care less if anyone ever recognized me again, I got enough fame when I was a teenager, and you know what came from it? Nothing!" Harry spat.

He stood and pressed his finger in the other mans face. "People like you sought to make my teenage life hell. Spreading rumors through the Profit, persecuting the people I loved, and making me feel like I had to hide from everyone and just do my duty," he shouted.

"And do you know what that duty was? The fate placed upon the shoulders of an eleven year old boy? It was death. I was meant to kill the most powerful and feared wizard of our time. I was just a boy!" he yelled, collapsing back in his chair.

Giaus stared a moment and then slowly clapped and sneered. "Do you feel better now that you got to put on a show for me? No wonder Draco quit if that's the kind of nonsense he has to put up with from you."

His jaw dropped for a moment but Harry quickly composed himself and walked calmly from the room, letting the door shut softly behind him. He wasn't going to give Giaus the benefit of another outburst, but he couldn't stay in the same room with the man without hexing him.

It was one thing for Draco to talk about his past, Draco knew him, they practically grew up side by side at Hogwarts, but this man had never even met him. He was just another wizard who thought the tabloid Harry was the real Harry.

Lexi was sitting at the front desk still, and looked startled when he entered. "You didn't use up your full session, Mr. Potter. Something wrong?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not working with him again. Call me when Malfoy decides to take me back," he said softly. The words meant more to Harry than he thought she knew, but then again, she was always surprising him, so perhaps she knew exactly what he meant.

She sighed and nodded. "I'll talk to him," she promised. "But I won't have him compromising himself for any of his clients, not even you Harry." Her voice was soft and made the impact of her words that much more potent, although Harry couldn't begin to fathom how his continuing to work with Draco would impact the other man at all.

Though he still wondered why Malfoy had dropped him in the first place.

--

Harry tried to sleep when he got home, but his mind was confused and angry and turned his thoughts against him in a stream of vicious bloody images.

He envisioned the deaths of Lupin and Tonks, as if it happened right in front of him. He had no way of really knowing if they had suffered, but in his mind, they would writhe in agony for hours before finally losing their mind and having their lives snuffed out.

The worst part about his visions was that in every instance, Harry was holding the wand. Not some nameless, faceless death eater and certainly not Voldemort. It was always Harry. He would level his wand at Fred, or Lupin or Moody and cast the killing curse, and then he would turn to Ron. "Avada Kedavra," he would shout, sending the bolt of green at his best friend. Then he would move to Hermione, who would be sobbing for Harry to stop, to wake up and to see what he was doing to himself, but she would fall like the rest.

Poor Teddy was saved for last, the little boy that Harry hadn't seen since he was an infant. He was appointed as his godfather, and he abandoned him just like the rest… left him to grow up with his grandmother and no sign of Harry in his life.

Harry hefted his wand and aimed it at the small child, now almost old enough to begin Hogwarts. The boy's hair morphed from a sandy brown to a bright red right before Harry's eyes. The boy smiled at him and held out his hand. "Uncle Harry," he said, his voice small but unafraid.

"No," Harry shouted, shaking his head. He aimed the wand again, right at the boy's chest. "Avada-"

"Teddy!" Harry screamed, sitting bolt upright in his bed, his heart pounding and his head quickly joining the rhythm. He sucked in gasping breaths and tried to calm himself.

Harry climbed groggily from bed and tried to shake away the nightmare. Every time he woke up that way he felt like he needed a shower, or several showers. He felt as though he were covered in a layer of grit and grime that no soap would ever be able to remove.

His shower would need to wait however, because before Harry could make it to the bathroom, a loud tapping erupted from his window.

Harry walked over and let the small tawny owl fly around his loft before finally landing on Harry's shoulder. He untied the small scroll and the owl flew away. Harry unrolled it and read the note quickly, for it was very brief, and he smiled to himself. It said simply:

_Harry, _

_Ron told me everything._

_We love you and we're here if you need us._

_Love Always,_

_Mione_

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The clarity and calm the small loving note brought him was almost as brief as the note itself however, and a moment later the pain and blood were once again forefront in his mind.

Only one thing made it better, and he had to go see him to get answers.

Authors Note: Please review! I hope to come home to a full inbox!!


	9. Chapter 9 Confrontation

Authors Note: I'm back!! Many thanks as always to my favorite beta Alexandra. Also, if you have not already seen, I posted the first chapter of my newest story titled Rivaling Affections, please check it out and let me know what you think of it.

Chapter 9 Confrontation

Harry pounded sharply on the giant metal door to Draco's flat. No one answered, but he was persistent and eventually the door yanked open.

"What?" Draco yelled through the opening.

"I wanted to talk to you," Harry said, not letting Draco's tone intimidate him.

"What are you even doing here? Didn't you get the memo, Potter? You're not my client anymore," he scoffed.

"That's what I want to talk to you about," he said, stepping closer.

"I don't have anything to say to you," Draco huffed.

Harry took another step closer and Draco backed away. "I still need your help. If money is the issue, I'll pay you directly," Harry said.

"I don't need your fucking money, Potter," he replied, tone indignent.

"Then what is it? Am I not obedient enough for you?" he asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped out of the doorway allowing Harry to pass. "I'm not having this conversation with you in the corridor," he sighed.

"At least we're having the conversation," Harry said with a smile, walking briskly into Draco's living room.

"You are insufferable," Draco grumbled.

"Oh, and you're just as pleasant as they come, I suppose?" Harry asked, still smiling.

"Let's just get this over with. What do you want?" Draco asked.

"I told you," Harry started, pacing the floor in front of Draco's sofa. "I need you. I had another… episode today, and I need you to help me forget."

"That's not my job," he replied.

"Oh? Then what is your specific job description, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm supposed to make you face things, and help you to heal, not just forget it all. Drugs could do that," he muttered.

Harry stopped pacing and went to stand directly in front of Draco. "Then make me face them," he whispered.

Draco took a step back, but Harry mirrored him. "You're a hopeless case, Potter. There is nothing more I can do for you."

"But the dead," Harry whispered, "the dead haunt me all the time."

"Dead people are not your problem, Potter, it's the living you can't cope with," Draco scoffed.

Harry blinked once and flung his hand out sharply, slapping it across Draco's face. His open palm collided with Draco's jaw and he glared at him for several seconds before pulling the blonde's mouth into a crushing kiss.

Draco didn't resist and pushed them back into the couch, grabbing fistfuls of raven locks and plunging his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry rubbed his hand against the bulge in Draco's trousers and undid the buckle with his other hand. Draco moaned against him before pulling away and sending Harry falling to his knees at the edge of the sofa.

"We're not doing this," Draco rasped. "I'm not your lover, Harry. You can't just come over like this."

"Fuck me," Harry whispered, still trying to catch his breath from their searing kiss.

"What?" Draco asked incredulously. "Did you not hear a word I just said? I don't care about you, Potter. Go find someone who does. I'm sure there are plenty of willing boys that would pound that nice virgin arse of yours." He turned away and headed for the kitchen but Harry chased after him.

"I want you, Malfoy. You're the only one who makes the nightmares go away," he pleaded. He was standing directly behind him, and his breath was ghosting across Draco's neck.

Draco whipped around and caught Harry's throat in his hand and squeezed lightly. Harry's eyelids drooped and Draco let go. A moment later Harry felt a draft and looked down to find he had been stripped naked with a spell. Draco's wand was still out and pointed directly at Harry's sternum.

He stalked up to him and pushed him back toward the kitchen table, turning Harry around and making him face it. Draco pressed his head down and made him lean against it, his legs spread and his arse in the air.

Harry couldn't see anything but the wall ahead of him and for several minutes all he felt was the cold wooden table against his cheek and chest. Then he felt a wet finger graze the crack of his arse and slip down, rubbing roughly at his entrance.

He pushed back against the finger, wanting to feel it penetrate him but Draco held his hips still with his other hand. "Patience my little whore," he whispered and Harry groaned.

After a few teasing strokes Draco shoved his finger in roughly and without ceremony, making Harry cry out and writhe against the table. He pumped the finger in and out several times before withdrawing it.

Harry whimpered and Draco laughed. "You like that, do you?" he asked and Harry nodded.

A sharp crack erupted on his arse cheek and Harry yelped. He had not time to process the sensation from that though, because Draco was probing his entrance again, this time with a second finger joining the first.

He plunged them inside Harry and hooked them, rubbing his fingertips roughly against Harry's prostate and making him scream out. Harry couldn't sit still through the onslaught and bucked against Draco's hand.

When Draco withdrew the second time, Harry was swollen and erect, just begging for release, but Draco refused to touch him.

Harry could hear the sound of clothes being removed and falling to the floor and he started to whimper and moan. "Oh, Merlin, Malfoy, fuck me please," he cried.

Draco chuckled and pressed his cock into the crease of Harry's arse. "I told you I would make you beg for my cock before the end," he whispered.

He didn't care how degrading it might seem, all Harry wanted was Draco buried deep inside of him.

Draco pressed the head of his cock against Harry's entrance and he heard him mutter a spell and felt warm liquid surround it. "This is going to hurt," Draco said so that Harry could hear him clearly. "I have no intention of being gentle," he added, and Harry could hear the lustful grin forming on his face.

"Yes," Harry hissed in pleasure. He wanted Draco to rip him, tear him and pound him into oblivion.

A moment later he felt Draco pushing his way into him. He could feel the muscles give reluctantly as he began shoving every inch of his thick swollen cock inside Harry's tight arse. Hewas grappling at the edge of the table trying to stabilize his own movements as Draco penetrated him.

When he was fully sheathed, Draco groaned. "So tight," he rasped. Harry pushed back against him and Draco moaned, pulling himself out until Harry could only feel the ghost of his cock inside him and then plunging back in quick and hard.

"Fuck, Malfoy," Harry groaned through gritted teeth. Draco had been right, it hurt like hell, but as he moved in and out the wall between pleasure and pain crumbled around him. He was blissfully blank with Draco buried inside of him, and there was no amount of pain he wouldn't withstand to keep him there.

Still hard and ready, Harry snaked a hand down to his own cock only to have it swatted away. "You'll finish when I tell you," he ordered and Harry whimpered and nodded.

Draco reached around and grazed his fingertips over Harry's cock and he shivered and pressed into him. In response Draco raked his fingernails of his other hand down Harry's back, making sharp biting lines in his flesh.

"Fuck," Draco groaned. "I forgot how great a virgin arse could feel."

A burning flash of jealousy flew through Harry like phoenix fire and he bucked hard against Draco, making the other man cry out with his orgasm, emptying his hot seed inside of him. Harry doubted Draco would be thinking of anyone else for a while now at least.

"Sneaky little whore," Draco whispered when he regained his breath. He pulled out sharply and Harry whimpered at the loss. Draco whirled him around to face him. "No one has ever been able to force me to finish that easily."

Harry smiled triumphantly and was about to make a clever retort but Draco leaned in and bit into his bottom lip and he made a muffled moan against Draco's mouth instead.

When Draco let go he moved closer and placed a breathy kiss beside his ear. "Just for that, I'm not going to finish you off," Draco whispered, rubbing his thigh against Harry's swollen cock.

Harry threw his head back at the sensation of Draco's body against his, but when he regained composure, Draco was no longer there pressing into him, and instead was several steps away and out of Harry's reach.

He was smiling wickedly and shaking his head. "You have a choice. You can either finish yourself, right here in front of me and then leave, or you can hold onto your wanton lust and sleep in the guest room."

Harry tilted his head to the side in confusion. Why was Draco making him choose? He wanted it all. He would happily jerk himself off with Draco watching, and that wasn't the issue. He wanted release, but he knew that the peace brought from an orgasm wouldn't last as long as the constant calm and happiness he felt by staying close to Draco, just being in his presence helped him keep the nightmares at bay.

"I want to stay," he whispered.

Draco looked genuinely surprised. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "But I want to sleep with you."

"No deal," Draco said, shaking his head.

Harry sighed and leaned against the table, trying to ignore the throbbing ache of his cock begging for release. "Please," Harry whispered, but Draco only shook his head again.

"I only sleep with dates and boyfriends, Potter. You are neither," he said curtly.

"Then what am I?" Harry asked, genuinely curious as to what Draco had to say.

Draco shrugged. "At your worst you're a pain in my arse, at best you're a decent fuck."

Harry laughed. "Only decent?"

"I suppose if you were only decent I might not have invited you to stay… though I hadn't thought you'd choice that option," he said with a frown. "But you're still not sleeping with me, because I still have no intention of dating you."

Harry closed most of the distance between them and Draco began to look nervous. "Why?"

"You're just not my type," he said coolly.

Harry sighed. "But you'll still fuck me?"

"If your not acting like a petulant child, and if I feel like it," Draco responded and turned away, heading toward his bedroom.

Harry stayed a moment longer, watching Draco's naked arse as he walked. After a bit he followed, but instead went into the guestroom as instructed and tried desperately to obey Draco and not touch himself.

--

Draco didn't go straight to bed; instead he sat in the armchair by his window and stared out into space for what seemed like hours.

Harry had chosen to stay.

He didn't know why exactly that meant something, but it did.

Maybe it was that Harry chose furthering their relationship over release, which also meant he chose Draco over his nightmares.

It meant that Harry was close, close to being healed and close to leaving him and the thought made Draco shudder.

He could imagine him now, curling up naked in Draco's unfamiliar bed and stroking himself. But he knew better. Harry might find release in his sleep as he had that morning, but he would resist while he was awake, simply because it was the stipulation of his getting to stay.

He chose the relationship.

Draco shook his head in dismay. He was already far closer to Harry than was healthy and things could easily get out of hand. If he didn't put an end to his... sessions... with Harry, Draco would find himself hurt in the end, and that was just unacceptable.

Authors Note: Hee hee. I hope you all enjoyed your dose of smut. lol. As always, I really enjoy reading what you have to say, so please review!


	10. Chapter 10 Ill

Authors Note: I wrote the final chapters of this story earlier this week, so it's coming to a close soon. Chapter 14 is the final installment, and there will be a few ups and downs from this point on. Many thanks to my brilliant beta Alexandra. I know this chapter is a tad short, but it's all about the development of the plot. lol

Chapter 10 Ill

Black leather wedged heels clicked sharply along the corridor leading from the old metal lift to Malfoy's flat on the third floor. Lexi paused and took a deep breath as she approached the large blue metal door at the end of the hall.

She had been to Malfoy's flat on several occasions, but always for pleasure, not business.

Because of the wide-open floor plan, it was the flat they preferred to have their office parties.

This visit, however, was all business.

Harry hadn't been back to the clinic in few days, but in the state he had left his meeting with Giaus, that was understandable. The bigger issue was that Draco hadn't been either, and had now called in every morning for almost a week.

Something was wrong and she was determined to put a stop to it if she could. Draco was her friend and her employee and he needed to realize what he was doing to himself before it was too late.

Lexi knocked on the door and waited. When nothing happened, she tried again, louder this time. Finally the door slid open and a very haggard looking Draco stepped into view. His eyes went wide upon seeing her, but he stepped out of the way to let her inside.

Lexi stepped past him and surveyed the flat quickly. Nothing seemed out of place there except for Draco, who looked genuinely ill.

"I'm sorry, Draco. It seems I owe you an apology," she said quickly.

"For?" Draco asked curiously.

"Well, I thought you were faking," she said bluntly, with a shrug. "I thought maybe you were treating Harry, privately, but it appears you really are just sick."

Draco winced and the look wasn't lost on Lexi. After working with Draco as long as she had, not much slipped by her. "You have been," she said, not a question but a statement. She knew it pained Draco to lie to her and she could tell by his reaction that he had in fact been working with Harry outside of the clinic.

Draco nodded and went into the kitchen. He poured them both some tea and took it to her into the living room. "Yes, I have. I'm not sure that the clinic is the right place for me anymore."

Lexi gaped. "You're serious? You would throw away all the good work you could do over some traumatized war hero?"

Draco sighed and sunk into the closest armchair. "He's not like that. You didn't know him… before."

Lexi remained standing, scrutinizing every word Draco said. "You love him," she muttered, feeling torn between pity and concern.

She had lost several healers over the years when they found themselves falling in love with a client, and it never turned out well. She never thought it would happen with Draco, he always seemed so cold and untouchable. That was part of what made him special, what made him so good at his profession in the first place.

He was unflappable.

"I don't love him," he protested, too quickly Lexi noted.

"I don't want to see you get hurt, Draco," she said, letting all her concern for his well being fill her voice.

"I'm in control of this," he stated firmly, and she nodded, but was not at all convinced. "He needs me," he added.

"I'm sure he does, but are you certain that you haven't started needing him as well?" she asked lightly. That was how it always started. The healer would help the client, and then the client in turn would help the healer with something. That bond would seem genuine at first, but soon it would fray and leave them both broken and alone. It was always messy.

A noise from the other end of the flat pulled her attention and she narrowed her eyes. "He's here now isn't he?" she demanded. It was worse that she thought.

Draco groaned and a moment later the glamour faded and Draco looked perfectly well and healthy. "Yes. He's the one that's sick. He has been for a few days. He has no one else to take care of him, so I let him stay here."

Lexi sighed and placed the teacup on the coffee table slowly and softly. Draco had lied. Lied to _her,_ no less. And to protect a patient? It was too far out of her control already. She would just have to wait it out and let the chips fall where they may.

"Draco," she started softly. "I love you. You're like a brother to me, and I don't want to see you get hurt. Who knows, maybe Harry's the right one for you, your soul mate," she mused and he grimaced. She knew how much he hated that term because he didn't believe he had one.

"Either way, I'm staying out of it. Just know that if you _ever_ need me, I'll be here," she whispered and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

She turned abruptly and left Draco's flat. She couldn't watch Draco destroy himself, but she could be there for him later… to pick up the pieces.

--

Draco was left staring at the place where Lexi had been standing a moment before.

Had she really just left him?

He had always been close with her. After all, she was the one that had gotten him through the tragedies he had suffered during the war, though she had used very different methods of healing than Draco used with Harry.

He remembered the first time he had met Lexi. It was in a London pub, she had only just recently arrived from America and was untouched by the war. She had heard stories of the atrocities that happened in England and the surrounding countries but it hadn't trickled over to the states yet.

She was clever and witty and hadn't had a drop of alcohol despite her setting. She said she had come there to observe and that it was far easier to do so when sober.

On the other hand, Draco had been completely sloshed. That was the way he chose to deal with the memories of the war, or rather, how he chose _not_ to deal with them.

That night she had taken Draco home and sobered him up. She stayed with him for weeks while he kicked his drinking problem, and after time he succeeded.

It was that experience that made him want to help people who needed to recover from their own war and their own demons.

So Lexi had hired him on to work at the company she had brought over from America. The company had been the reason for her hop across the pond. The Ministry had contacted her to start it in secret to help the magical citizens of London heal from their self-inflicted wounds.

He had been with her and the clinic for seven years, and now he was throwing it all away. For what?

For Harry?

For love?

He scoffed at the thought. It wasn't as though he didn't believe in love, he saw true reflections of it all the time. Draco just didn't believe it was for _him_. He was Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and all around bad guy. There was no reason for fate to smile down on him with something as fluffy and perfect as love.

No, he was smarter than that. He would cure Harry and then he would release him back into the unsuspecting world. People like Harry could make a difference, people like Harry _deserved_ love.

A violent cough brought Draco from his reverie.

Draco checked his pocket for the vial of potion for Harry's cold and fixed another cup of hot tea before making his way into the guest room.

"This bedside service is getting old," Draco groaned dramatically as he opened the door.

Harry was bundled up in the many blankets Draco had piled on him earlier when he had been shivering. He handed the potion vial to Harry, who grimaced. "Well, you should be happy to know that your bedside manner sucks," Harry informed him, taking the potion and downing it swiftly.

"Well, when I signed up to be your healer, this was not what I had in mind," Draco huffed.

"You could always just fuck me, I'm sure that would cure all my ailments," Harry said with what Draco thought was supposed to be a seductive smile, but it just came off as pitiful in his current condition.

"Right, and catch whatever nasty disease _you_ have?" Draco scoffed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just throw me out of your flat if you're so afraid of getting sick?" he asked, looking genuinely curious. Was he hoping Draco would say something sweet and endearing? Something that told Harry that Draco _wanted_ to take care of him?

Draco couldn't do that.

"I couldn't do that," Draco whispered, mimicking his thoughts out loud. He watched as Harry's eyes opened a little wider and his lips parted slightly.

"Why?" he whispered just as softly as Draco had.

"Because it will probably be another four years before one of your friends shows up again. You could die and no one would know for years," Draco added casually.

Harry's expectant face fell into a frown. "Why would you care if I died?" he spat.

Draco sighed. "It's bad business to let a client die, especially one as high profile as yourself."

Harry turned on his side facing away from Draco. "This really is just work to you isn't it?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, Draco thought of his options. Should he tell Harry that it might be more than that and then have to watch as he eventually found someone more worthy?

"Yes, it's only work to me. I'm glad that's finally starting to sink in," he said gruffly.

Harry only nodded and shut his eyes, so Draco took that as his cue to leave. He placed the cup of tea by Harry's bed and cast a warming charm on it before slipping out of the room.

Draco sighed heavily, leaned against the other side of Harry's door and pressed his fingers to his temples. He was messing everything up by letting Harry stay. His recovery would be slowed and just that much more painful for Draco when he was finally healed.

When he finally left.

As soon as Harry was well he would make him go back home. Wouldn't he? Or would Draco find a way to keep him here? Maybe he could do something more to slow the healing process, keep Harry there with him just a little longer.

Draco shook his head and padded to his own room, letting the door slam roughly behind him. He couldn't let things keep going this way.

He just couldn't.

Authors Note: Gummy Harry's to reviewers!


	11. Chapter 11 All's Fair

Authors Note: We are fast approaching the end here. Only 2 more chapters to go after this... For anyone who hasn't already noticed, I have started new fics called Alluring Lullaby & History Repeats Itself, please check it out and tell me what you think!

Chapter 11 All's fair

Harry paced in front of Draco's bedroom door, trying to decide how to go about his request.

He needed to get Draco out of his system. The man was like a toxic cancer, eating away at everything Harry had once wanted his life to be and replacing it with desire. His entire life was now consumed with the burning need to be with Draco, to have him, to hold him, to take anything the Slytherin would give, but it was a one sided yearning.

Harry alone felt the need to be with Draco, while Malfoy felt nothing for him, nothing but mild annoyance and a sense of duty. Harry needed to break away before it was too late.

Taking a deep breath, Harry slipped the note he had written under Draco's door and turned to leave. He hadn't even made it down the hall before the door clicked open and Harry turned to find Draco in the doorway holding up Harry's envelope.

"What's this," he asked tersely.

"Payment for your services," Harry replied, trying to remain calm.

Draco looked down at the thick envelope and nodded. "You're leaving then?" he asked, seemingly hopeful.

"I am," Harry replied. "Thanks for your help these last weeks," he added, the urge to run to Draco barely held in check.

"So, I won't be seeing you again?" Draco asked.

"Do you want to?" Harry prodded.

"I didn't say that," Draco replied.

"Right," Harry sighed. "Well, then yes. I suppose this is good bye."

"Good bye," Draco said roughly and shut his bedroom door.

Harry sagged against the wall for a moment, wistfully imagining Draco opening the door and telling him not to go, and that he wanted him. He could see Draco's brilliant gray eyes clearly as they sparkled with tears, tears from his grief at the idea of Harry leaving.

But the door didn't open, Draco never emerged form his room, and Harry was certain the man wasn't crying over his departure. So he left, apparating back to his own flat.

The minute his feet hit the wooden floors, the grief returned. The burning pit of despair swallowed him whole and he passed out into a fit of nightmares, worse than any he had ever experienced before, but this time, there was no one he could run to.

--

"He left," Draco said into the receiver.

"I'm sorry," Lexi's voice replied through the little black cell phone he was holding.

Draco shrugged, realizing instantly that Lexi couldn't see him. They rarely spoke on the phone. Even though Draco had bought one years before, he never got used to the small contraption. "I knew it was coming. It just came sooner than I had expected," Draco replied.

"How does that make you feel?" she asked lightly.

Draco laughed. "I didn't call to be analyzed."

"Then why did you call?" she asked.

"I wanted to see if my job was still available," he replied.

"Draco, you know that you'll always be welcome here," she said. "Do you need some time to…"

Draco laughed again. "Grieve? Hardly. He was just a patient."

There was silence on the other line and Draco had thought for a moment that Lexi had hung up. "I'll see you tomorrow then? Giaus has infuriated several of your clients in your absence."

"I'll be there," he said.

"Draco?" Silence again. "I'm glad your back. I was worried."

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm too clever to fall so easily," he said

"Still, there was something about Potter. I could see it when you were together. I'm sorry it turned out this way, part of me was hoping he was the one," she replied sadly.

"Harry was too good for me," Draco muttered. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lexi. Have a nice evening," he said quickly before hanging up.

He stared at the small black phone for what seemed like hours before setting it down and going to the kitchen to make tea. It had been several hours since Harry left his flat and he wondered what the Gryffindor was up to.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing good will come of thinking about him," Draco mumbled to himself. Even though he had seen it coming, Harry's leaving still stung. He knew it would be painful, which was why he never allowed himself to get closer.

A deep ache welled up inside his gut and he dropped his teacup. It was as if he could feel Harry's agony, like he could experience the twisted daydreams the man must be having at the moment.

He reached out, as if he would grab him, hold him, and he touched the part of Harry's mind that would sometimes seem to be intertwined with his own. The thoughts calmed at once and he could breathe again.

Draco tried to shake free of the nonsensical thoughts pushing into his mind. Harry wasn't joined to him; he was across the city, far away, and probably already making nice with a new and more worthy bloke than Draco.

Harry didn't need him anymore.

--

A piercing scream echoed through the flat and it was moments later that Harry realized the sound had come from his own mouth. He had been having a vivid nightmare where Snape was burning alive in front of him, and there was, as usual, nothing Harry could do to stop it.

But he felt better now, calmer, and he didn't know why.

He felt as though a warm body was wrapped around his own, keeping him safe. But as quickly as the calmness came over him, it was gone again, lost in the deepening despair that his life had turned into.

The nightmare weren't really worse, Harry decided. In fact, most of them were identical to nightmares he had experienced before. What made them worse was the fact that Harry now knew what peace really was. He could feel the calm that being with Draco provided him like a palpable presence, and now it was gone.

The prospect of having that calm never return was maddening.

Harry would be strong though, and eventually the ache would subside, and he would forget what it was like to be with Draco.

Draco had done enough, and he didn't need Harry as a permanent pain in his arse. He didn't want him and Harry couldn't blame Draco for that. Harry was damaged goods, damned to forever relive his mistakes and yearn for any kind of release. What could he offer Draco?

Draco, who was like a perfect beam of moonlight, soft, beautiful and willing to temporarily light to way for a wayward traveler. Draco, who was so clever and gorgeous he could have his pick of any man or woman alive.

What could Harry offer him besides the broken pieces of his heart and soul? Nothing so shattered would be sufficient to hold him.

Harry sank back onto his bed with a groan and willed himself not to fall asleep, not to let the nightmares take him again.

--

Draco stared across his desk at the portly young woman in his office.

She had been whining for what felt like hours about her husband leaving her and how she had suspected him of cheating and how miserable her life was now.

"Then go get him back," Draco said simply, and now she was staring at him as if he had three heads.

"It's not that easy," she said at last.

"Why not?" he replied in a bored tone. "Do you love him?" She nodded. "Can you live without him?" She shook her head. "Then go to him and tell him so."

She got up and looked at the door. "Mr. Mal-" she started, but Draco promptly cut her off.

"Just go," he said.

She nodded and practically ran for the door, not looking back again. Draco sagged into his chair and sighed. That had been his third appointment that had involved some form of lost love and he was starting to get suspicious.

Just then Lexi walked in and sat elegantly on the edge of his desk, confirming his suspicions. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively and scowled. "I'm fine," he answered before she got a chance to ask.

She smiled sweetly and crossed her legs. "How was that last appointment?"

"I'm assuming you listened in," he replied.

She nodded. "Of course. This is a new probationary period. I can't have you messing up or else I'll have to fire you immediately," she said casually.

"What? That's ridiculous! I've been doing this for years, I'm-" he began, but was cut off at once by Lexi.

"Not familiar with the definition of sarcasm," she said, finishing his sentence in an entirely different way than he had intended.

"Right," he muttered. "I guess I'm a little on edge."

"A little?" she asked, her dark brown eyebrow raised in question. "Draco, you have snapped at every employee today, and barely given the clients your full attention."

Draco sighed and sank further into his chair, trying to melt into it. "I know, I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Harry?" she asked carefully.

Draco nodded. "I just keep expecting him to walk through the door any minute and tell me that he still needs me."

"Needs you, or wants you?" she asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "My, someone had a large dose of observation this morning," he teased.

Lexi shrugged. "I'm still worried about you, Draco. You're not the same, you're heart hasn't been in this lately. It's been two weeks since Harry walked out on you and you're still pining. Maybe you should take your own advice and go to him. Maybe he really does want you and he was just too afraid to say it."

"Right, the great Harry bloody Potter, in love with me?" Draco scoffed.

"He's not so high and mighty, and you're a catch Draco," she added.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I appreciate the pep-talk, but can I just get to my next patient now?"

"Ingrid was your last for the day, you're free to go home," she replied, hopping delicately from his desk.

He flinched at her words. Home. That was where he was forced to think on his life and his loss. Everything was fine and cozy until Harry stepped back into his life, now he knew what his world had been lacking and he wanted desperately to fill the hole.

But only Harry seemed capable of that, and he didn't want Draco.

He followed Lexi from the office and listened to the sound of her sharp heels clicking on the marble floors as he trailed behind her.

Maybe tomorrow he would go to Harry; maybe tomorrow he would ask if there was anyway the Gryffindor would see Draco as more.

Draco shook his head. No, there would be no confessions of love, no discussions of need. Harry left, just as Draco had known he would do, expected him to do, and it was time for Draco to move on.

Those were his thoughts in the lift leading up to his flat, and down the corridor and even when he opened the door and placed his keys on the kitchen table. Those were his thoughts right up until he saw Harry's sleek gray eagle owl waiting for him on the windowsill.

He practically ran to the window and flung it open to get to the beautiful bird. There was nothing but a small scrap of parchment tied to its leg, waiting for Draco to take it.

The bird waited patiently for Draco to untie the scroll and flew off the moment he was done. With shaking hands he unfurled it and stared at the words, reading them over and over again. It was just a few tiny scribbled words and an address.

_I need your help._

_4563 Saint Blvd_

_HJP_

Draco balled up the paper, instantly memorizing the address and concentrated on it as he apparated to Harry's flat.

--

Authors Note: Oh no? What's happened to Harry?? Review lol


	12. Chapter 12 Illusions

Authors Note: Okay, I was wrong last time when I said there are 2 chapters left. NOW there are two chapters left. I was getting ahead of myself. This chapter, next chapter and then an epilogue which should tie everything up. Thanks to my beta, Alexandra.

Chapter 12 Illusions

"Leave it to Potter to live on a boulevard called Saint," Draco muttered to himself as he made his was briskly to the address listed on the note Harry had sent.

It said that he needed Draco's help, which worried Draco, not because of the plea, but because Harry didn't just come to him. That's what he would have done before if he only wanted sex, or to wash away his nightmares with release.

Since he summoned Draco to _him_, it made him feel as though there may be something desperately wrong.

So he hurried.

Lining the street of Saint Boulevard were white row houses made of glittering white marble. They were each three stories and had wrought iron balconies on the top two floors. They were pristine, exceedingly average and Draco had a hard time imagining Harry living in one of them.

Draco paced up and down the block, looking over and over at the same stretch of homes. He had passed 4565 and 4561 and never saw 4563. He looked across the street and the numbers were as they should be there.

He stared at the space where the house should be and whispered the address out loud and was only slightly startled when the space between the townhouses shimmered and split apart.

A different home grew up between the two perfect white flats and Draco smiled to himself. The home that manifested at 4563 was a two-story Tudor style cottage with roaming moonflower vines trailing up its face.

This place was much more like the spot Draco could imagine Harry whiling away his time. It practically screamed old family home.

Not that he should be imagining what Harry was like in his free time. It was bad enough that he had felt so compelled to go to Harry in the first place. He should have been staying away, keeping his distance and getting past the infatuation that had grown into something new over the past several weeks he had spent with the infuriating Gryffindor.

By all accounts he should hate the boy who made his life at Hogwarts a living hell, they were opposites in almost every way. Not to mention Harry was unstable and Draco was unworthy. They would make quite the disastrous couple indeed.

Draco shook his head, deciding not to use the word couple when thinking of Harry ever again.

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and walked up to Harry's door.

--

Harry was pacing back and forth in his living room. Artemis, his owl, had returned a few minutes before, so Harry knew Draco had the note. What Draco did now might change his life.

There was a loud knock at the door and Harry stiffened, turning his head just slightly and bracing himself for Draco's reactions.

He had come, and that alone meant things to Harry he couldn't even begin to explain. He went to the door and opened it slowly. Draco had his hand raised as if he were about to knock again and looked curiously at Harry.

"What's wrong?" he asked, raking his gaze over Harry's unmarred body. No doubt he thought the note meant that Harry was in trouble, and he was, just not the trouble Draco might have assumed.

"Come in," Harry answered, avoiding Draco's question for the moment.

Draco narrowed his eyes but followed Harry into the living room nonetheless. "What's this about, Potter," Draco said when the silence had stretched between them too long.

"I want you to make love to me," Harry blurted. He had meant to be more seductive and persuasive, but seeing Draco in his house and just being near him always made Harry a little irrational.

Draco blinked several times and his mouth opened to speak, but no words came out, so he promptly shut it. The look of confusion quickly shifted into a glare that would have melted any other person in place had they not had the practice Harry had with Draco's glares.

"You've finally lost what little bit of your mind you had left, I see," Draco muttered and made a move to leave.

Harry grinned in spite of himself and reached out to grab Draco's arm. "Please, just listen to me."

Draco stopped and sighed but refused to face Harry, so he spoke to Draco's back. "I just need this one last thing from you. I promise, just do this one thing, and you'll never hear another word from me again," he whispered, knowing how true and binding the words were that he spoke.

"How do you expect me to make love to you, if I don't love you," Draco responded. His breathing had quickened slightly but he still kept his face away from Harry's searching eyes.

"Pretend if you have to, I've been convinced you had feelings for me before, this shouldn't be too much of a challenge for a brilliant actor like yourself," Harry whispered, squeezing slightly on the arm he was holding.

Draco's body went ridged and he slowly turned to face Harry. "You want me to pretend to love you?" he asked, as if trying to confirm some impossible statement.

Harry only nodded and pulled Draco closer.

--

This was insane—it was destructive and it was foolish.

There was no way Draco could allow himself to be so thoroughly intimate with Harry, not when his feelings were… so close to what Harry asked him to pretend.

Did he love Harry? He didn't know for sure, but what he did know, was that there would be irreparable damage if Draco were to make love to him. It just couldn't happen.

But then Harry kissed him, and it wasn't like any of their heated and passionate kisses before, it was soft and sweet and yearning. Harry's lips pressed lightly against his and Draco's carefully organized mind started to spin out of control.

Fingertips trailed lightly over the thin white shirt covering his abdomen, and he flinched reflexively. Draco deepened the kiss, licking against Harry's lower lip and Harry opened his mouth to him, letting Draco slowly plunder and taste him.

He tasted like home.

Draco groaned against Harry's mouth at the rumblings of his brain. He needed to stop thinking about Harry in such permanent terms. Harry had been upfront with him, told him that this would be all, that this would be the last.

Well, if this would be the last time he ever got to touch Harry, he would make it memorable.

His mind screamed at him to run away, but his heart and his body outnumbered his logical brain and it was forced into silence.

Harry had melted against him and raking soft fingers up Draco's back, but clothing was in the way. Draco reached out and stilled Harry's hands, holding them in his own. Harry looked panicked for a moment, as if Draco were going to stop. Apparently he had no idea that he had stolen away Draco's will and left him irrevocably tethered to him. Draco couldn't leave now even if he wanted to, and he knew he should.

"Bedroom?" Draco asked, tugging lightly on Harry's hands.

Harry's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Upstairs. First door on the right," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Draco led the way, pulling Harry gently behind him. It wasn't lost on him how cozy Harry's home was. He could imagine himself spending luxurious evening by the fireplace, sipping hot tea and running his fingers lazily though Harry's raven locks.

It was a nameless future for Draco, but nothing could be done about it now. He would just have to suck it up and cope when the time came for Harry to leave him forever.

Draco shut the bedroom door behind them, though he doubted it was necessary. He wanted his last moments with Harry to be uninterrupted. He ran his fingertips through his curly black hair and sighed at the silky softness of it. Harry moaned and leaned into Draco's hands, his eyes fluttering closed.

Moving them both toward the bed, Draco laid down first, pulling Harry down on top of him. Harry leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead, then on each eyelid and then once more deeply on the corner of Draco's mouth.

His weight on top of Draco was comfortable and they seemed to fit together like the last two pieces of a rather large puzzle. Everything felt right with Harry pressed against him. He ran his fingernails lightly up Harry's sides, causing him to shiver and writhe.

The clothing was still in the way, and Draco moved quickly, flipping Harry beside him, and straddled his legs. He took the buttons of Harry's dark gray shirt carefully into his mouth and unfastened each button slowly and lazily.

When he pulled back, he examined his work, the shirt hung loosely around Harry's arms and he lifted up to help Draco pull it from his beautiful body. Harry grinned up at him nervously and pulled Draco's clingy white shit over his head as well.

Draco leaned over and pressed their bare torsos together, placing languid kisses from Harry's neck down to his chest, carefully rolling his tongue around each nipple until they stood at attention for him.

He could already feel Harry's erection pressing into him, so Draco ground into it, causing Harry to writhe and squirm. Draco sighed and moaned lightly, relishing the feeling of Harry's body reacting to any caress, no matter how slight.

Draco cupped his face and leaned in for another gentle kiss, pulling back only to look into Harry's brilliant green eyes. "How do you want this?"

"I just want you, I don't care how," he whispered, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked up at Draco.

Draco reached for the clasp on Harry's trousers and pulled them down, finding him completely nude. He raised a delicate blonde eyebrow and smirked. "So confident you would be able to convince me?" he asked.

Harry smiled and shrugged. "Just hopeful," he replied.

Draco removed his own trousers and boxers and slipped into the bed beside Harry, pulling him close. He had never appreciated Harry in this manner, the way his leg automatically lifted over Draco's to give him complete access, the way his hips curved perfectly, revealing a flat line of pale flesh that vanished behind a mass of thick back hair and the way his body rested perfectly against Draco's.

Draco ran a single finger down the length of Harry's body, from neck to hip, and Harry shivered. Kissing him lightly on the lips, he whispered against them. "You feel so perfect." He didn't know why he said it, but it needed to be said, no matter the cost to him later.

"Malfoy, I-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off with a firm press of lips. He couldn't stand to hear what Harry might have said. It would only replay in his mind over and over when Harry made him leave and he never saw him again.

He was losing himself in the blissful thing that was kissing Harry when he felt a warm hand wrap around his cock. He shuddered at the touch and ground into it, causing Harry to grin triumphantly.

He loosened his grip and stroked the ridged member several times before licking his lips and moving from Draco's immediate sight. The sensation of Harry's tongue made him cry out and wonder how a novice could possibly turn into an expert so quickly.

A fiery wave a jealousy hit him as he wondered what, or who, Harry had been doing in the weeks since he left Draco. His mind tried to hold onto that spark of anger and make Draco leave now, but again he was overpowered by his want to stay with Harry, no matter what.

His orgasm took him by surprise and he thrust, rougher than intended, into Harry's hot mouth, his whole body rocking in the aftermath. Harry sighed with a mixture of content and longing and Draco pulled him up and kissed him deeply.

Their tongues collided in a fevered rush and Harry moaned into his mouth. Draco could taste his own flavors mixed with Harry's and pulled him tighter, raking fingers through his soft hair.

Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and grabbed his still swollen cock. Harry's eyes fluttered at the contact and his head lolled back. He angled Harry's cock against his entrance and pressed slightly.

The movement made Harry's head snap up and his eyes went wide. "I don't have to, Malfoy, I'm happy to bottom," he began, but Draco shook his head. If he was going to have only this last time with him, he wanted Harry inside him, filling him.

Harry took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. As he pressed slowly inside of Draco's tight entrance, a quivering whimper escaped his lips. "Merlin, I never imagined anything could feel this good," he moaned.

Draco smiled, already feeling so thick with lust that his cock was hard again. It had been years since anyone was inside him. It was rare he found someone he cared about and trusted enough to let them inside him. He was the dominant in every relationship he had ever had, and the chance to let go, particularly with someone he loved as much as Harry, was a welcome change.

Was he in love with him? His mind asked him over and over and finally he had to admit, that to his own detriment, he did in fact love Harry. He was in love with him, everything from his messy black hair, to his hero complex and even his scars were like precious gemstones to Draco, unable to be matched by any other.

Harry was fully sheathed inside him and they rocked together slowly, pushing Harry in and out, slowly building the friction that would lead to release. Harry gripped Draco's cock and beat him off in rhythm to his own cock's movements and Draco was writhing beneath him like a wanton whore, begging for more, begging for release.

"Harry, I love you," he whispered before it was too late for his brain to stop the words from spilling through his lips.

Harry stopped moving completely, seemingly stunned. He leaned down and cupped Draco's jaw in his free hand. "I love you too, Draco," he replied softly, seemingly honest.

Draco knew better though. Harry was playing the part, acting the smitten lover that Draco was supposed to be pretending to be. At some nasty turn he had actually become that person.

Harry began thrusting into Draco again as if nothing had happened and Draco's back arched as a second orgasm hit him, tightening all his muscles in pleasure. Harry came a moment later, spurned by Draco clenching him tightly.

After several shuddering breaths, Harry collapsed on top of him and kissed him fiercely on the cheek. He ran his hand languidly through Draco's hair and sighed. "That was perfect," he murmured.

"And now I'll never see you again," Draco whispered, willing himself not to cry.

Harry face fell and he nodded. "That was the agreement."

Draco nodded and pulled himself roughly from the bed, his mind whirring and spinning. He had ruined everything, his life, his career and his simple sense of balance, all with this one act. Was it worth it? His brain asked him that question over and over and Draco didn't have an answer.

He had told Harry he loved him and was now being told he wouldn't ever see him again. Even though that truth was made clear beforehand, it didn't make it hurt any less.

Draco slipped quickly into his clothes, never a protest uttered from Harry, and walked as fast as his legs would carry him, away from Harry's flat.

Away from Harry.

Away from his _own_ nightmares.

--

Authors Note: Whats this? Another cliffhanger? I didn't put that there? Who is tampering with my writing? I NEVER put cliffhangers at the end of my stories!! also, I've gotten a few random requests for friendship on my other accounts, and I just wanted to say that I pretty much approve anyone, so feel free to add me. I'm digitallace on Myspace, Facebook,Buzznet,Livejournal & Mibba.


	13. Chapter 13 The Final Scar

Authors Note: Many thanks go out to my beta Alexandra, who has been with me through this entire story. Technically this is the last chapter, but after this there is an epilogue, so in one more week this story will be finito. I am working on a companion series oneshot for it though, but that will come later as I'm a little buried with stories at the moment.

Chapter 13 The Final Scar

Draco walked the darkened streets of London for what seemed like hours, following paths he had traversed many times before, and even venturing down unfamiliar alleyways and boulevards.

His arms wrapped tightly around his body, as if for warmth, but really it was for comfort. He had fallen so deep and so hard that nothing would ever be the same again. Harry pulled on his heartstrings and tied them into knots like no one had ever done before. He felt like a powerless puppet, dangling freely as the puppet master smirked and taunted his affections.

There was no way to deny that he was madly and irrevocably in love with Harry. Harry bloody Potter, Gryffindor's golden boy and savior of the world. It was comical… Draco, a former Death Eater, was infatuated with someone of Harry's caliber.

This mess was his own fault, though. He courted fate, laughed in its face and said yes to Harry far too many times. If he had only stayed firm and kept his distance, if Harry had only been less desirable or maybe less needy. If he had possessed less perfect eyes…

Draco shook his head and looked up at the street corner. Somehow he had made it all the way to Russell Square. He could either take the Tube to Ravenscourt Park, or apparate there directly. He looked around and reveled in the vacant streets, deciding another long walk might be just what he needed instead of either of the quicker options.

He missed Harry already. Part of him, and if he were honest with himself he would realize it was a very large part, had wanted Harry to ask him to stay. He had wanted to be able to curl up and sleep, just once, in Harry's embrace.

But Harry's response had been expected, and far more logical. He wondered how long it would be before he read about Harry in the news, hand in hand with some lucky and completely undeserving bloke.

It made him cringe with anger and jealousy just thinking about it.

He was almost back to his building when his phone chirped and he rummaged in his pocket for it. The tiny blue screen said it was Lexi, and he debated ignoring the call and stuffing it back into his pocket, but Lexi rarely called this late without good reason.

"This had better be good," he answered, making it clear he was in no mood for idle chat.

"Can you explain why Harry just called me?" she replied curtly.

"I wish I could. What did he say?" Draco asked. He had no idea why Harry would call Lexi in the middle of the night, especially after what had happened between them.

"He prattled on for a minute or two about you and his regrets for the way things worked out. He said you left him… but I must be confused because I could have sworn you told me that he left you," she mused.

"He did, and then he contacted me tonight, and I went over to his flat, and… well, he basically said he didn't want to see me again, so I left," Draco replied, trying to contain his tears and pain.

"He asked you over to tell you to leave, Draco that makes no sense," she said.

"Not exactly," Draco replied.

"What aren't you telling me here?" she demanded. Draco took a deep breath and spilled the whole story to Lexi.

"So, you and Harry made love, then he told you to leave, and then he called me to cry about it?" she replied when Draco finished his story. "There is still something you're leaving out. What _exactly_ did Harry say?"

Draco thought back, trying to remember the brief conversation that transpired. "I just reminded him of what he said before, that I wouldn't ever see him again, and he agreed, telling me that was the agreement," Draco said, trying to be as accurate as possible. Something in Lexi's tone worried him.

"How did he look when he said that?" she asked.

Draco shrugged despite the fact Lexi couldn't see him. "I don't know. Sad maybe, but that's probably just wishful thinking on my part."

"Is there even the slightest possibility that he only said that because you prompted him to? Your reminding him may have sounded to Harry like you wanted him to leave you alone," she said gently, and that worried Draco even more. Lexi was not generally a person one would describe as gentle.

"What are you getting at, Lexi?" Draco asked.

He could hear her delayed breathing and a long pause before she spoke. "Draco, he sounded heartbroken, and he told me good bye. He thanked me for trying to help him, and told me to take care of you. Draco, I think you misunderstood things, and I think Harry's going to do something stupid," she said at last.

A shiver ran down Draco's spine and he shook his head. He tried to calculate the date and couldn't concentrate well enough. "What's the date today?" he asked quickly as he rode the lift up to his flat.

"It's May second," she replied. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Draco broke into a run to get into his flat. "It's the anniversary of the end of the war. Don't you ever bother reading the Profit?" he shouted.

"You know I can't stand that rubbish, and anyhow, what does that have to do with Harry flipping out-" she began, and paused briefly. "Shit. His scars, right? He's going to kill himself isn't he?" she choked out.

"He's going to try, but I won't let him succeed," Draco shouted, angry with himself, angry with Harry, and furious with the world that made them this way.

Harry's owl was sitting on his windowsill when he opened the door. "I have to go," he said quickly and dropped the phone back into his pocket, walking briskly over to the bird and letting it in.

It swooped down aggressively at Draco and stayed just out of reach for a moment or two. "Get down here you ruddy bird," Draco shouted.

Finally it landed on a chair and allowed Draco to remove the bulky scroll. Draco read through it quickly, ignoring the bird's exit. A thick sob choked him as he read the parchment over again.

_My Dearest Draco,_

_I don't know how to begin this any other way then to tell you I love you. I think I may have loved you since the beginning, but I'm certain at least that I love you now. You can't begin to know how grateful I am to you for every attempt you've made to save me. _

_I know you'll think I'm ignorant and weak for what I'm going to do, but I need it. I need it almost as much as I need you. I thought you were my twin soul, but I found myself once again mistaken, and I can't bear to think of another year going by without you. _

_None of this is your fault, and you must believe that. I would have done it even if I hadn't met you again, but I suppose you know that from your many sessions of analyzing me. Please don't lay an ounce of guilt on yourself though. I couldn't stand it if I thought you were ill over me, and my constant issues._

_I love you, Draco. I know you'll find someone who will make you as happy as you made me. _

_Yours in life or death,_

_Harry James Potter_

Draco crushed the note and threw it violently in the corner as he made his way to the fireplace. He took a deep breath, shouted Harry's address and was gone in a flash of green light.

--

When he arrived in Harry's flat, everything was dark and silent.

Like the dead.

Draco shook his head at his own morbid thoughts. He was here to save Harry, not to mourn him. He quickly searched the downstairs and found it empty, so he went upstairs. At first glance the bedroom seemed empty too, but a thin beam of light from the bathroom showed what Draco had mistaken for a lump of bed linens, to actually be a crumpled body.

He swallowed thickly as he moved closer. "Harry," he shouted, but the body didn't move and didn't react. He shook his head again. "Stop thinking of him as a body. It's Harry, it's _my_ Harry," he chastised himself.

He leaned down and pulled Harry's face up to meet his own. "Harry," he shouted into his vacant stare, but there was still no response. He looked down to find blood seeping into his pants, and paled.

Blood, so much blood. A person couldn't lose this much blood and live, could they? If anyone could it was Harry fucking Potter.

He pulled Harry into his lap and shook him, unaware of the tears that streaked violent wet lines down his face. He quivered with grief, and ran his wand over and over Harry's body with every healing spell he could think of, but nothing seemed to have an effect on him.

He pressed a kiss against Harry's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so, so sorry," he sobbed. Draco pulled him closer, rocking and groaning his grief into the air. "Fuck, Harry. Please don't leave me. Please, I love you so much."

He tore one last kiss from Harry's lips and reached into his pocket for his phone. He dialed Lexi's number and she picked up at once. "St. Mungo's," he blurted.

"I'm already there," she replied. "You can apparate him straight into the lobby," she added.

"It's too late," he cried. "_I _was too late."

"Draco, just bring him here. You can't know, these healers can do amazing things," she shouted at him. "Get him here now, Draco."

"He's so cold," Draco mumbled. "There's so much blood," he sobbed, before apparating Harry into the St. Mungo's lobby.

"Shit," Lexi called over his shoulder when she saw Harry's pale and blood soaked form in Draco's arms. "Oh, Merlin Draco. I'm so sorry," she rasped, pulling him into a tight hug, as witches and wizards carried Harry's body away. Draco screamed with fury and sorrow into her shoulder and she gently stroked his blood caked hair, trying to calm him. But she had a feeling he was inconsolable and would be for a very long time.

There was no possible way Harry was alive, and as Draco slumped against her she could feel him slowly dying as well.

Authors Note: Damn.


	14. Chapter 14 Epilogue

Authors Note: I couldn't wait any longer to post the end of this story so I am switching Claimed and with Healing this morning and Claimed will post tomorrow. So this is the end. I know, it's bittersweet. I shed a few tears in the making of this one, and it wa very close to me while I was writing it. I hope you're all content with the outcome. Thanks to Shannon and Alexandra who looked after and beta'ed this fic for me throughout.

Chapter 14 Epilogue

Rows of tombstones lined the winding path that Draco walked slowly down, making a steady progression through the graveyard. In the center of this little muggle cemetery was an area where wizards were buried with spells surrounding it to repel muggles from venturing too close.

Gnarled trees dotted the spaces between graves and added a movie-like quality to the cemetery. Draco had always found this graveyard to be cliché and even tacky with its ornate monuments and towering stone angels littering the area.

The Malfoys always preferred a nondescript vault for their family members in death, and he knew this wasn't Harry's preferred resting place either.

It was damp for an early May afternoon, and unseasonably cold. But Draco supposed it was only fitting weather for a cemetery visit. The massive tombstone in front of him was made of shiny black granite and the words carved into its face were embedded in his mind from how often he had looked at them. He ran his fingertips over the cold stone, tracing each letter.

On top of the granite slab was an intricate statue of a seventeen-year-old boy facing off with an evil looking wizard, their marble wands sparked with magic that looked like a muggle magician's parlor trick rather than the spell that saved the wizarding world from doom and ultimate destruction.

He rolled his eyes, knowing Harry probably hated this tribute particularly since he never got a say in it. Draco was thankful he had arrived before the crowds of witches and wizards who would all flock to this place to give tribute today.

"It's been a long time since the war," he whispered to the air. "But I finally think I understand it all.

"We fought through all the tragedy, we even fought each other, but in the end we were able to heal. It took some of us longer than others, and some of us were even tricked into thinking we were fine until something—someone—came along that proved that wrong.

"I can't even begin to thank you for your sacrifice, but at least now I realize that I'm not entirely unworthy of it, and that in thinking I was, I was doing a great disservice to the war, and everyone who died in it," he continued.

"You died to make this world a better place to live, you died for me," he rasped, unable to say anymore.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder and Draco leaned his cheek against it. "That was sweet, Draco," the husky voice said beside him.

Draco smiled and looked into the glittering green eyes of his lover. "You asked me to say a few words, so I did. I wouldn't want to disappoint you and have you revert to your old anniversary ritual," he responded with narrowed eyes.

Harry smiled and kissed Draco deeply. He had been saved that night, a year ago to date. No one even knew how he could have survived so much blood loss, and Draco's only answer was that he was Harry Potter, destined to be a pain in his arse for eternity. So small thing like blood loss could possibly take down the hero of all wizarding kind.

Draco kissed him back with a force that nearly toppled them both to the ground in front of the war memorial. Their courtship had been swift, and even before Harry had been released from St. Mungo's with a clean bill of health the two had been inseparable. Draco went from sleeping beside Harry's hospital bed, to sleeping _in_ his bed at Harry's home in London.

"I love you," Harry whispered against Draco's mouth.

"I love you, too," Draco responded. He felt like he had said those words over the last year more than he had said them his entire life. He made sure that no day went by that Harry wasn't certain, beyond a show of doubt, that he loved him more than anything in the world.

"Are we done here?" Lexi called from the path, rubbing her hands up and down her arms and bouncing slightly in her heels. "It's freezing out."

"Would you mind?" Draco called back to her with mock disdain. "We're trying to pay our respects to the dead."

"By putting on a soft core porn show for them?" she called back with a wry grin. "We all know what will happen if I don't interrupt you," she added with a laugh.

Draco rolled his eyes. "For your information, we are perfectly capable of restraining ourselves."

"Right. If I left now it would only be minutes before someone was bent over that statue of Harry and Voldemort," she replied smugly.

Harry grinned at Draco. "It does sort of sound like something we'd do," he whispered for Draco's ears alone. "Maybe we could come back later…"

Draco laughed. "Would you like that to be our new ritual? Fucking over the graves of the dead?"

Harry shrugged and grinned wider. "It's not everyday you would get to fuck _me_ in front of a statue of _me_."

Draco rolled his eyes. "True, but I hate that statue."

Harry frowned and nodded. "Yeah, me too. We'll just stick to the original plan then and wait till we get home," he said with a wink.

Home. Draco always liked that word when it came from Harry's lips. He had sold his loft and moved in with Harry a few months earlier, and it was so nice going home to him every single day.

"Home," he repeated with a nod. He took Harry's hand, lacing their fingers together and walked away from the war memorial and back to where Lexi was standing, shivering in the cold.

"Finally," she said and hooked her arm through Harry's free one, kissing him on the cheek. "Have I ever told you how glad I am that your stupid stunt last year didn't work?"

Harry laughed. "Only every day," he replied.

She shrugged and smiled. "Well, this was fun boys, but some of us have work to do. I'll see you over at Andromeda's and Teddy's later," she announced and with a wink and with a wave of her wand, she was gone.

"Alone at last," Draco murmured, squeezing Harry's hand and leaning in to kiss him.

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head. "Not quite," he said, nodding to a cluster of trees just off the path. Under them stood Ron and Hermione in a similar pose, hand in hand, staring incredulously at the two of them.

Harry walked toward them and Draco reluctantly followed. Hermione's eyes were brimming with unshed tears and Ron looked uncomfortable. A moment later Draco's vision was obscured by a mass of frizzy brown hair as Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry," she cried. "We've missed you so much."

Harry laughed and hugged her back with the hand that wasn't still clasping Draco's. "Well, you could always visit me," he replied.

She pulled back and chewed on her bottom lip. "Well… after last time Ron stopped by and… well, you know. We thought it might be best to wait until _you _contacted _us_."

"That's fair, I suppose," Harry replied with a blush.

"Well, you look good, Harry. Really good," she said. "I suppose we have you to thank for that?" she added, sparing a smiling glance toward Draco.

Draco only shrugged and pulled Harry closer, but Harry grinned and nodded. "He's my knight in pale armor," Harry answered, causing Draco to blush slightly too.

Ron stepped up to them and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "It really is good to see you happy, Harry. After all this time… we didn't know if it would ever happen. So if it's Malfoy who made you smile again, then… well, he must be okay," he said, still looking terribly awkward, but smiling all the same.

Harry shook his head and laughed. "Thanks… I think. Er… we were just heading home, but maybe… maybe we could all meet up sometime?"

Draco groaned silently but knew that he would eventually give into any of Harry's wishes. So if Harry wanted to be friends with the Weasleys again, then he supposed he would have to learn to like the ginger family.

Ron and Hermione both nodded enthusiastically and waved farewell as they went their separate ways down the path.

--

At the cemetery gate, Draco pulled Harry close and kissed him fiercely. "Let's go home and get you naked," he whispered against Harry's mouth.

Harry grinned and apparated them both home, away from places and times of sadness. That day—that anniversary—had changed for Harry from a day of pain and anger to a day of new beginnings and love, something to look forward to rather than something to dread.

He had his heart and his soul right beside him forever, and together they were healed.

Authors Note: Ah, so this is the end, of this story anyway. I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. If you did, you can thank Winter.Poem for the request. I'm sad to see it end, but on the bright side I've introduced Ron and Hermione back so that I can create a oneshot story of them attending a night at The Castle with Harry and Draco. TutelaTwin requested it and I think it would be rather humorous. So, please review, and if there are any more requests, send them my way! And don't forget to read my other fics (If you haven't already) I'm also working on a D/H oneshot that will be posted soon, so look out for it.


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